Fortune and Men's Eyes
by Merlin Missy
Summary: Consequences 1.  Takes place directly after HM3.  Elisa and her family come to terms with the recent changes in their lives.
1. Chapter 1

VVVVV  
Consequences Part One: Fortune and Men's Eyes (1/3)  
a Gargoyles story  
by Merlin Missy  
Copyright 1997, 2005  
PG-13  
VVVVV

The characters and situations in the "Gargoyles" universe belong  
solely to Buena Vista Television, a subsidiary of the Walt Disney  
Company. No infringement on their copyright is meant or should be  
inferred. Characters in this section of the story not owned by either  
of these sources are my own creations, and are hereby declared public  
property (just let me know if you do actually use them; I'd like to  
see what happens).

Continuity notes: takes into account the continuity established in "All  
Through the Night," and in most of Nancy Brown's story universe. You  
don't need to have read any of those stories, but you might enjoy this one  
more if you do.

I thank you for your time and attention. Now, on with the show.

VVVVV

In her half-dreaming world between sleep and full awareness,  
Elisa relived the moment on the tower. It had seemed so natural and  
perfect to jump into his startled arms and press her lips against  
his. Now, in her semi-conscious state, the scene replayed, changing  
as it went. She felt his wings enfold her as his arms moved around  
her, holding her lightly against the quickening rhythm of his heart.  
He began to return her kiss, and although she could sense the sun  
rising behind him, he remained warm and responsive while she  
explored the strange contours of his mouth. His hands massaged her  
shoulders and neck as ...

_**BUZZ**_ " ... oh, it's cold and lonely in the deep dark night!"

Elisa shot her hand out, slapping the top of her radio alarm  
clock until she found the Snooze button. Not quite awake, she  
stared at the ceiling for about thirty seconds, then looked over at  
her clock. 3:30. She had a few minutes before she had to get up,  
she decided. She closed her eyes again and tried to recapture the  
fantasy from which she'd been so abruptly pulled. Her heart rate  
slowed gradually back down as the adrenaline rush subsided. Tower.  
Goliath. Kiss. And after the kiss ...

_**BUZZ**_ " ... so put your little hand in mine/There ain't no  
hill or mountain we can't climb/Babe!" That killed it.

She looked at the clock as she hit the Snooze button again.  
3:39. Like it or not, she had to get ready. She sat up and turned  
off the alarm. There were times she was certain that thing knew  
when she most didn't want to hear it. With all the magical objects  
she'd encountered in the past two years, it wouldn't have surprised  
her in the least to learn her alarm clock was possessed by some  
vindictive spirit.

Oh well. Sunset would be in a few hours. If Captain Chavez'  
temporary replacement had a new case for her and Matt, she would  
simply have to swing by the castle for a few minutes. Or more.

The castle. It was odd to think about it as a place she  
_wanted_ to go. For over a year, it had stood for her as a symbol  
of the most devious foe she'd ever had to face, a man who played  
with others' lives as if they were toys for his personal amusement.  
He had utterly upset the balance that had been her own life, first  
by introducing her to the gargoyles, then by changing her brother  
into a mockery of one, and finally by managing to slip into every  
facet of her existence one way or another. Xanatos.

Yesterday that same villain had called an end to the battle  
between them. _He_ said it was all over; Elisa would wait to see  
how long the uneasy peace actually lasted. She was never going to  
make the mistake of trusting that man, not for an instant.

Merely thinking about him put a frown on her face that she  
didn't notice until she passed the bathroom mirror. She decided  
quickly that she wasn't about to let thoughts of Xanatos set her  
mood for the evening. Instead, as she stepped into the warm spray  
of the shower, she thought of Goliath again, and wondered how he  
would explain the grin on his face that she'd left him with by  
dawn's early light.

VVVVV

She was still thinking about Goliath when she entered the  
station a few hours later. Her cheerful grin and wave hello to  
Morgan and the rest of the guys earned her more than her normal  
share of stares. Considering the plywood that lay haphazardly  
around, and the spackle which had managed to get _everywhere_ in the  
course of the last twenty-four hours, both grim reminders of what  
had occurred, she supposed she probably should take on the same  
serious aspect of the rest of her coworkers.

The serious face lasted until she saw Matt at his desk, at  
which point she could not help but let her smile shine through  
again.

"Have a nice day?" asked her partner over what was probably his  
third cup of coffee. There was just enough of a layer to his  
questioning tone that Elisa wasn't sure whether to bat him on the  
arm or start laughing.

"Yeah, seven hours of sleep can work wonders."

His returning look asked her if she was just talking about  
sleep.

Her silent reply asked him what else _could_ she be talking  
about during the day?

He watched her for a moment, then began to study his coffee  
cup, a smile of his own threatening.

"I'm glad to see you're both in such bright moods," came a deep  
voice to her left.

"No extra charge," said Matt, straightening up. Elisa felt  
herself doing the same without trying.

Carl McKenzie wasn't a large man, but he had a presence that  
managed to make even the toughest creeps they brought in feel  
inadequate. He had the rare gift of being intimidating simply by  
stepping into a room, which had come in handy on more than one  
occasion in his fifteen years on the force. Elisa had known him  
half her life, had seen how much like a teddy bear he really was,  
but every time she saw him, she couldn't get over the feeling that  
she was still merely a scrawny little kid in the company of a giant.  
She'd seen the same effect on the other officers in the precinct,  
which she supposed made him a good, if not perfect, choice to take  
command while Captain Chavez recovered from her injuries.

Making a firm attempt to stay nonchalant, she asked him, "So  
what's the bad news for tonight?"

McKenzie leaned casually on a chair for a second, until he  
noticed that it would not support him. He slid to an empty desk and  
sat against it, obviously half-convinced it too would fall, but not  
wanting to take up any more space than he needed.

"The Captain called this afternoon. Bluestone, she wants you  
to check out those leads you had on the whereabouts of these  
'gargoyles,' but if you don't find anything, she wants you to drop  
it and instead concentrate on finding Jon Canmore. She said we had  
full confessions from Jason and Robyn Canmore," Elisa's heart  
skipped a beat, "concerning the bombing, and that the city could use  
the funds being spent on the Gargoyle Task Force to repair the  
station house sometime before the next millennium." His mouth  
quirked. "If you could manage it, I'd like your preliminary report  
on the gargoyles by tomorrow night."

"I'll see what I can do," said Matt. "What did she say about  
my idea to substitute the Garg Task Force with an Alien Task Force?"

"She said to take some vacation time, and that if you even  
_thought_ about running a check to find satellite interference, you  
were to be put on suspension until after 'Independence Day' leaves  
town." Matt pretended to be hurt. McKenzie turned to Elisa. "And  
as for you, she said that if you asked for any vacation time, you  
were going in front of a firing squad."

"There goes your trip to Tahiti."

"So do I tag along with him all night?"

"Not tonight. Officially, you're still partnered with Conover.  
We'll fix the paperwork tomorrow, as soon as they excavate the  
Captain's office. I have a Missing Persons report for you." For  
the first time, she noticed the manila folder in McKenzie's grip.  
He handed it to her.

"What's this about? I haven't worked MP in years."

He shrugged. "This one is a little different. A woman  
disappeared while working for Gen-U-Tech. Her parents filed a  
report months ago. They showed up this afternoon demanding to know  
why their daughter hadn't been found yet. The Captain figured that  
since Xanatos was involved, you'd want to work on it."

"She's right." The truce might come in handy after all. She  
could get some information on the poor woman out of Xanatos, and  
keep her parents from going through the same turmoil her own had  
before they discovered what had become of Derek.

She opened the folder, and looked at the photograph of the  
missing woman. She wasn't exactly beautiful, but she was pretty, a  
blonde Caucasian in her twenties. Elisa had the feeling that she  
had seen her around but couldn't figure out where. She'd  
encountered enough of Xanatos' employees in her recent travels to  
populate a small city, but none of them in her immediate memory came  
close to this face. Another quick inspection of the picture told  
her that it definitely _wasn't_ the blonde woman from the XCG who  
seemed to show up everywhere.

She sighed and glanced at the name. Margaret Ann Reed. Her  
fingers contracted involuntarily around the paper as the woman's  
identity slid into focus.

Maggie.

Damn.

VVVVV

They were waiting in one of the less-damaged areas of the  
station when Elisa located them. Mr. Reed looked to be in his early  
fifties, his salt and pepper hair thinning just to the point where  
brushing it over the top of his head no longer helped. He was  
easily half a foot taller than she, and had the kind of build to  
make potential attackers think twice. He sat, reading one of the  
handful of antique magazines kept around for the law-abiding among  
the passers-through of the precinct house. Beside him sat his wife,  
a mousy little woman with darting eyes. Her hands had knotted  
together in a manner suggesting she'd been toying with them  
uselessly minutes before. She was probably around his age, but her  
face was older, sadder. Elisa had seen that same face worn by a  
hundred women, coming to the station to drop charges against  
husbands and boyfriends.

"Mr. and Mrs. Reed?"

The woman's head shot up. Her husband looked up from his  
magazine, and his frown deepened a fraction when he saw her.

"It's about time."

Elisa ignored the irritation in his voice, reminding herself  
that he'd probably been under a great deal of stress since Maggie's  
disappearance. Her own father certainly had. She gave them a  
professional smile as they stood. "Detective Elisa Maza."

"Detective," said Mr. Reed, "perhaps you can explain why we've  
been left here for so long."

"I'm very sorry for the delay. Things have been a little crazy  
here lately." She indicated the mess. "If you don't mind, I'd like  
to ask you a few questions."

"What's there to ask? We filled out the report months ago.  
We've heard nothing since then. I got some time off work to come  
here, and now you want to ask questions?"

"It could help us in our investigation." Elisa didn't want to  
acknowledge it, but she was really beginning to dislike Maggie's  
father, and she'd only known him a few minutes.

"All right." He sat back down abruptly, and his wife followed  
suit, watching Elisa carefully. So far, she hadn't spoken a word.

Elisa pulled up a chair and sat down casually across from them,  
trying to broadcast her good intentions. She opened the folder and  
scanned the file again. She'd read it carefully before she'd come  
in, but she needed to remind herself of just what she was after.

"It says here that your last contact with your daughter was in  
September of last year. May I ask the nature of that contact?"

Mrs. Reed said in a small voice, "She sent us a letter."

"Do you have the letter with you?" She nodded and dug into her  
handbag. She pulled out a somewhat crumpled envelope with the same  
address on it as was on the report. Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio. "May I?"

Mrs. Reed looked to her husband. Mr. Reed appeared unhappy,  
but nodded. Elisa took the envelope. She pulled out a piece of  
stationary paper, with the Gen-U-Tech logo emblazoned on the top and  
read it quickly.

Dear Mom,

Hi, it's your long-lost daughter. Sorry it's been  
so long since my last letter. I've been very busy  
lately, but I have good news: I'm working at Gen-U-Tech  
Systems as an assistant to one of the doctors here. His  
name is Anton Sevarius, and he's been very kind to me.

I haven't had time to go to any auditions, but as soon  
as I save up some money, I want to take a little time  
off and go for it. I don't plan on working here forever,  
you know. I have to go now. Dr. Sevarius says we're  
going to start Phase Two of the experiment tomorrow, and  
that means work work work tonight. Take care, Mom, and  
tell Dad I said hi. And don't worry.

Love,  
Maggie

Elisa remained staring at the letter after she finished, trying  
to decide what to do next. She noticed the date on the letter, and  
was positive it had been written after Maggie's transformation had  
begun. The handwriting, just unsteady enough to be conspicuous,  
reinforced her opinion. But she hadn't mentioned anything out of  
the ordinary, which meant she had probably still been hoping for a  
cure. Maybe Sevarius had told her it would only be temporary. Then  
Sevarius had faked his own death, and Maggie had lost hope with the  
rest of the Mutates.

She glanced up to meet their faces. "And you've had no further  
word from her?"

"None." The man's voice was a death knell.

"Why did she come to New York originally?"

Her mother spoke again, her eyes wide, "She wanted to be an  
actress. She was very good in her high school plays, and she  
majored in drama at the community college."

Mr. Reed interrupted, "Maggie was never what you'd call  
grounded in reality. When she wasn't in a play, she was writing  
poetry, or mooning over some boy." He snorted. "I'll bet that's  
where she is now, shacked up with a man, either with a kid or one on  
the way, and too ashamed to come home."

"Don't say that, Jimmy," Mrs. Reed whispered.

"It wouldn't surprise me," he said. "Not one bit."

Elisa said hurriedly, "Before the letter, how long had it been  
since you'd heard from her?"

Her father responded, "Three months. She called right after  
she got here to tell us she'd found a place to live."

"May I have the address?" She took out a pad of paper.

Mrs. Reed looked at her husband again, and then said, "She  
didn't tell us the address. That's why we put our home address on  
the report."

Now _that_ was odd. Why wouldn't Maggie have told her parents  
where she was? She knew Maggie had been on the street a while  
before Sevarius had approached her with the job. She didn't speak  
of that time at all, and Elisa had never asked. She saw people from  
the street every day, and knew what they were forced to do sometimes  
to stay alive. That was the reason the Labyrinth had been founded:  
to give other people a better chance than Maggie and Claw (and Fang,  
when he'd been sane) had.

"Did she ever mention any friends or associates, maybe a  
coworker?"

"No," said her father. "Just the doctor at Gen-U-Tech."

"All right, that should be enough for now. I'm going to check  
some things out tonight, and I'll let you know tomorrow what I've  
found. In the meantime, I'd suggest you go back to your hotel and  
try to get some rest. We'll handle this from here."

Mr. Reed stood. "We'll be here first thing in the morning."  
He set the magazine down and headed towards the door. Mrs. Reed  
gave Elisa a quick, tight smile, and said, "Thank you, Detective.  
I hope you can find our girl."

"We'll find her, ma'am," she said, meaning it. Maggie's mother  
nodded, and scurried after her husband.

She watched them go, knowing exactly where she was going next.  
Her heart felt light; she was going to reunite a family. It didn't  
happen often. Usually, missing people stayed missing. This  
particular missing person, though, would be easy to locate.

VVVVV

"'Maybe you do not understand. You see, turning pages will  
bring us to the end of the book, and there is a _Monster_ at the end  
of this book ... '" Delilah's voice, so much like Elisa's to be  
almost painful, echoed in the room. She paused between each word,  
and the reflected sounds filled the spaces, making the story even  
scarier.

Maggie glanced over at Hollywood, who had drawn his knees  
against his chest and was staring over them with wide, frightened  
eyes. Brentwood sat on his heels beside him, webbed arms wrapped  
around his little body. Malibu was trying not to look scared, but  
she was willing to bet that he would jump the highest if she said,  
"Boo!"

Burbank was sitting a little bit away from the other boys, and  
wasn't really paying attention to the story. He was watching one of  
the candles in the room with the fascination of a moth. She had  
worried about that in the beginning, but after he'd given himself a  
nasty burn when he'd tried to play with a flame, he'd been very good  
about touching with his eyes only.

She put a comforting hand on Brent's shoulder. He snuggled  
against the touch, and she couldn't resist a fond smile. When she'd  
first met the clones, she'd been taken aback by their appearances.  
They were like bad color negatives of the gargoyles, and they had  
significantly less charm. She was certain they'd never fit in with  
life down here, even after Derek explained where they had come from  
and why. Only reluctantly had she taken on the task of teaching  
them to read. To her surprise, she had discovered what she had on  
her hands was not a group of dangerous clones who would kill her  
given half a chance, but five very young and inquisitive children.

From what they could gather, the kids were just now turning  
three months old. What they had seen in those three months could  
only be imagined. Thailog had created them to obey him, and to  
fight. He hadn't bothered with teaching them how to speak more than  
a few words, or how to feed themselves by any other means than  
shoving food into their mouths as fast as possible. They had adult  
bodies, but their minds were sorely lacking in anything but basic  
sentience. He'd sent the mental equivalents of two-year-olds into  
battle with their alternate selves. What kind of creator would do  
that to his own children?

Delilah turned the page in the book, and read to the others how  
Grover was building a brick wall to keep her from finishing the  
book.

There was no doubt in anyone's mind as to why _she'd_ been  
created. She had Elisa's face, Demona's body, and was utterly  
obedient to anything Thailog told her to do. Maggie had been  
getting close to her, but hadn't yet reached the level of trust she  
needed to find out what that had entailed. What she did know was  
that Delilah hid whenever Goliath came below, but remained nearby,  
watching him. In many ways, it was the same kind of fascination  
Burbank had with the candles. Too close brought pain, but it was  
impossible to stay away. The boys had also been wary of Goliath at  
first, but they'd quickly come to accept him as yet another one of  
the people who came to visit.

As if her thoughts could shape reality, she turned to the door  
as Elisa poked her head in to see. Maggie raised her finger to her  
lips, and Elisa slipped quietly inside. Delilah noticed her and  
stopped.

"Hi, Elisa," she said, a shy smile on her face.

Elisa shrugged at Maggie as if to say, I tried. "Hi, Delilah.  
What are you reading?"

Hollywood piped up, "Monster story!"

"Monster at the end of book," added Malibu.

Maggie sighed. "Malibu, say that again."

The clone, who could have been Brooklyn's technicolor twin,  
scrunched up his beak in thought. "Monster _is_ at the end of  
book?"

She smiled. "Close enough." She made a mental note to tell  
Derek they needed to work on their articles.

Brent pulled at Elisa's jacket. "Come listen! 'Lilah's almost  
done." Elisa sat down between her and Brent and put on her most  
attentive face.

Delilah turned the last page. Burbank moved away from his  
candle to sit a little closer to the group. Hollywood bit his lip,  
obviously very frightened of the monster.

Delilah giggled and turned the book so they could see. "It's  
Grover! Grover is the monster!" The boys breathed a sigh of  
relief. Delilah continued reading: "'And _you_ were so scared! I  
told you and I told you there was nothing to be afraid of. The  
End.'"

"That was good story," said Burbank."

"Scary," said Hollywood.

"I ... wasn't ... scared," stated Brent, and looked proudly at  
her.

"Very good." He beamed. "I was getting a little scared near  
the end," she said, and Hollywood looked appreciatively at her.

Malibu looked at Elisa. "Why you come visit us?"

"Actually, I came to see Maggie." Her eyes added, Alone.

"I'm flattered," she replied. "Kids, that should be enough for  
today. 'Lilah, that was very good." Delilah grinned. "Why don't  
you and your brothers go find Talon and tell him Aunt Elisa's come?"

"'Kay," said Delilah. "Come on, guys. Bye, Elisa." The boys  
scrambled to their feet and followed her out, mumbling good-byes.

Elisa watched them go out, a mixture of fondness and some  
trepidation on her face. She was still a little uncomfortable  
around them. It would take time for her to get used to seeing  
herself as a gargoyle.

"She's gotten better," she said.

"Better than you think. That book was a little below her  
reading level, but I thought the kids might like it. I may get her  
to Charlotte's Web by next month." Elisa looked skeptical.  
"Well, maybe the month after, but soon."

"I can't wait to see it. While I'm here, is there anything you  
need? I forgot to ask last time."

"That's okay. I forgot, too, so we're even." She thought.  
"Yes, come to think of it. We're going to need a decent First Aid  
kit with these five around. They're worse than kids, because  
they're bigger and can get into more trouble. And if you could  
figure out a way to get some oranges down here, we'd be forever in  
your debt." As far as she was concerned, Vitamin C was the world's  
best cure for anything but cancer and genetic mutation. A few of  
the human children had caught colds from the damp atmosphere, and  
she'd noticed Claw acting sluggish lately, too. Her thoughts  
drifted to the kids again. Delilah hadn't been eating much since  
her arrival, less than half that of her brothers. She _had_ enjoyed  
the one orange she'd had; maybe she'd eat more if they were  
available.

"I can do that. What's the smile for?"

"It's just that there are times I feel like a den mother. Or  
_their_ mother."

"If you are, you're better than Demona ever was to them."

"Maybe. You didn't come here to ask about supplies."

"No." She looked at the abandoned book. "When I got to work  
tonight, Carl handed me a Missing Persons file and put me on the  
case."

"Let me guess: it's for someone down here."

"You could say that. It's for you."

"Me?" She tried to think of who in the world would possibly  
think she'd disappeared. "My parents."

Elisa nodded. "I met them this evening. I didn't tell them  
anything. I thought you should decide how you want to do this."

"Do what?"

"Tell them what happened, show them you're all right, maybe  
even introduce them to the family."

Maggie stood up and spread her wings. "Show them this? Are  
you crazy? My mother would have a stroke." Her heart hammered in  
her chest. There was no way she could tell them. And there was  
certainly no chance of her ever introducing them to Derek. "No  
way," she said.

"Maggie, I know what you're going through right now." As a hot  
response came to her lips, she knew Elisa was right, but she didn't  
understand the whole thing. "I think it would do your parents a lot  
of good to know you're okay. It was hard on Mom and Dad before  
Derek finally told them."

"I know." But my parents aren't your parents, she thought.  
"Trust me, Elisa, telling them would be a very bad idea."

"Why? What's the worst that could happen?"

"You really don't want to know the answer to that." She  
sighed. Elisa was only trying to be helpful, and probably thought  
that it would be the best thing for everyone. How in the world  
could she explain what she _knew_ would happen when her parents  
met Derek, or worse, the rest of the family?

"You can tell me, if you want."

"No, I can't. Elisa, I appreciate what you're trying to do,  
but you have to believe me. They wouldn't understand."

"Maggie ... "

"Hi sis!" came Derek's cheerful greeting from the door. He saw  
her face and asked immediately, "What happened?"

"Nothing," she said, knowing Elisa would probably tell him.

"Girl stuff," Elisa said quickly.

Derek rolled his eyes dramatically. "I could leave." Elisa  
grinned impishly at him.

Maggie watched them with more sadness than she showed. Not for  
the first time, she wished her own family had been as close as Derek's.  
Since he'd introduced her to his parents, they'd treated her like another  
daughter. Of course, this meant Diane felt perfectly within her rights to  
tell her she wasn't eating enough and so on, but it was worth it just to  
feel that kind of affection. She'd found herself wishing that her mother  
was like this powerful, kind woman, or that her father was as  
good-hearted as Peter. Then again, if they had been, she probably  
would never have left home, never have met Derek or his family.  
Kismet, she thought.

"My parents have come to town," she said. Derek's ears perked  
up, something she normally considered adorable. Right now, though,  
seeing the action as her father surely would, she trembled.

"So when do I get to meet them?"

"Never, if I can help it."

He crossed his arms. "What, you don't think they'd approve of  
a boyfriend who can shoot lightning bolts from his hands?"

"It's not that!" She turned away and began wringing her hands,  
then stared at them. Her mother did that, she remembered. She put  
her arms to her sides.

She felt Derek's hands at her elbows, touching her lightly, as  
if asking permission to hold her. "Maggie, tell me."

She thought of her parents, what they would say, what they  
would do, if they saw her as she was right then, in the strong arms  
of the man she loved. She thought of the look on her father's face  
the last time she'd brought someone home to meet them. Then, she'd  
told him just exactly what she thought of him, and then she'd  
stomped out. She'd been in New York three days later.

"You know," she said, "I honestly think that the wings and the  
lightning bolts will be the least of their objections."

"Will they have a problem with _me_?"

She didn't want to say it, wanted her parents to leave New York  
and stay out of her life for good, and then she could go back to their life  
here, teaching the kids to read by night and slumbering in Derek's  
embrace by day. Would he understand if she told him? Would he  
understand if she didn't?

"No. They're going to have a problem with your mother." She  
turned to him, watched as recognition filled his eyes, to be  
replaced with bitterness.

"I see." She saw Elisa close her own eyes for a moment, as if  
trying to ward it off a little longer.

She took his hands and held them against her, willing him to  
trust her. "I stopped caring what they said or thought a long time  
ago. I don't really care what they say now about what we've become.  
But if I saw them again, I'd want them to meet you, and know how  
wonderful you are, and that I'm not alone. And if they met your  
parents, I don't know what they'd do."

Derek let out a deep breath, then twitched his lips in what  
passed for his smile. "You know, a few nights ago, I was wishing  
that we'd just once have a 'normal' crisis, one that didn't involve  
mad scientists or clones or power-mad ex-bus drivers. Now you're  
telling me that my in-laws are going to hate my guts." He squeezed  
her hands. "Guess I should watch out what I wish for, hm?"

"Guess so."

"So," said Elisa, "should I set up a meeting?"

"Can I think about it? Please?"

Elisa hesitated, then assented. "I think I can keep them in  
town a few days while I 'look.'"

"Thanks."

Derek's sister wasn't the touchy-feely type, so when she touched her  
shoulders, placed her head lightly against her cheek before letting go, it  
meant a great deal. So did the simple "We'll get through this" she said,  
pausing briefly at the door before she left.

Maggie watched her leave, her heart still twisting. There was no  
way she could allow it, of course. Her parents would simply have to go  
back home without seeing her, without finding out about what had  
happened, and certainly without finding out ...

Derek's hands began massaging the back of her neck. She tensed  
every muscle in her body, then leaned back against his touch. "That  
feels nice."

"You have a knot right," he prodded at a painful spot just  
below her left wing, "here." He kneaded it gently until she felt  
the tightness relax. If he kept that up, she was going to start  
purring. "You're going to have to tell them eventually, you know."

She tensed again. "Why? Way can't I just let them go back  
into their own narrow world and live my own life?"

"Because they're your family."

"You're my family, and Claw and the kids. And if that's not  
enough, Elisa and the gargoyles seem to come with the deal, too. If  
he did anything to hurt you or one of the others, I don't know what  
I'd do."

He moved his hands lower, and she arched to help him work out  
the tension in her lower back. "Like Elisa said, we'll deal with  
whatever happens."

"No matter what?" Maybe now would be a good time.

"No matter what." She felt his breath hot against her mane as  
his hands shifted a fraction. She lost all interest in further  
conversation.

After a while, she really did start purring.

VVVVV

Elisa had intended to go directly back to the station, and call  
the Reeds from there. Instead, she found the Fairlane on a course  
towards the Eyrie Building, seemingly without any intervention from  
her. What was that about the subconscious having control?

It wouldn't hurt to put in an appearance. The guys were awake.  
She might not be able to spend much time with Goliath, but seeing  
him would definitely put her in a better mood. She could deal with  
the Reeds after she saw him. Yes, that was an excellent idea, and  
she praised herself for thinking of it.

She pulled the car down into the small parking garage below the  
east side of the building. She flashed her pass to the guard on  
duty, feeling strange for doing so. Xanatos had handed it to her as  
she'd left that morning. It meant free parking, easy access to the  
castle via the express elevator, and more. It meant he wanted her  
to trust him to not do anything to her car while it sat, to her as  
she spent time in the castle proper. With the pass and the  
elevator, she had free run of the place whenever she chose, and  
considering their past, that was a huge level of faith on his part.

She wasn't sure she could offer that kind of trust, but the  
pass did make it easier to see the guys.

She got out, and locked the door before she closed it.

The elevator deposited her on the roof, no doubt informing the  
castle's inhabitants that she was on the way as it did. In fact, as  
she stepped out into the evening air, she heard padded steps on the  
stairway, and turned to see Goliath, his wings draped gracefully  
around him.

"I'd hoped you would come tonight," he said, opening his arms  
enough for her to place herself comfortably within them.

"I can't stay, but I wanted to drop by for a minute anyway."  
Oh, but she felt safe now. There was nothing in the world that  
compared to being in the arms of someone who loved her. It brought  
security from her earliest memories, of her parents' loving hugs,  
sprinkled like rain among the three of them.

Three.

_Uh oh._

She pulled back, remembering something that had completely  
slipped her mind in the excitement of the past few days.

"Elisa?"

"Beth's coming home tonight. Her plane landed at six. I was  
supposed to drop by."

"Is she finished with her school?" She had to admit, Goliath  
looked very sweet when he was confused.

"No, she's home for a few days on Fall Break, and she brought  
a friend from school." Translation: you can't come with me, and  
she's going to have a hell of a time explaining why her friend  
wasn't going to be meeting Derek. She loved her kid sister very  
much, but there were many times she was sure she and Derek had been  
the only ones who'd inherited their parents' common sense.

"Then perhaps you should spend time with her. You have  
tomorrow evening off."

She weighed spending the time with her little sister against  
spending it with Goliath. Years of "I'm gonna tell"'s rattled  
reminders in her brain. "I was going to ask you over tomorrow  
night."

His shoulders fell; had it not been for months of enforced  
confinement in the skiff, during which she'd become hyper-attuned to  
shifts in his mood and behavior, she might not have noticed.  
Seeing it now, and recognizing it for what it was, made her warm  
inside.

"There will be other nights," he said, simply. His words were  
underlaid with meaning.

"Yeah, I guess there will." She smiled at him again, letting  
him know she understood.

"I love you. You know that."

Electricity jerked her. He'd said it. She'd tried to say it  
the night before, had said it the only way she knew. Tonight she  
saw eagerness, a little fear, and the knowledge on his face that he  
knew what he'd just done, hoped she would return it.

She prayed Xanatos didn't have a camera recording all this.

"I ... " Fear won. "I gotta go." She turned from the  
quickly-masked hurt on his face, unable to deal with it. She thrust  
her hands in her pockets, stepped into the elevator.

When the door closed, she rested her head against the wall.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

VVVVV

Angela yawned and put the book down carefully. Father had been  
right; the books in the castle library were even better than the  
ones in the public library had been. Xanatos was a connoisseur of  
fine and rare books. The literature collection alone was just as  
large and eclectic as the one in the building next door to the  
clocktower, and the nonfiction sections, on history, science,  
philosophy and more, were virtually a cornucopia of information.  
Angela was hungry to learn.

They were staying in the castle for a while, to allow public  
fervor to cool to the level of a forest fire rather than a  
thermonuclear aftermath. Lex had spent the early part of the  
evening playing with Alexander, and afterwards had disappeared to do  
_something_ on the Internet. Brooklyn and Hudson were in front of  
the big screen television, watching the news. Father had gone to  
the roof when one of the castle's sensors informed him someone was  
using the express elevator, probably Elisa. Right now, Broadway was  
puttering around in the kitchen, but she knew as soon as he was  
done, he'd be in the library with her.

That started her down a train of thought she really didn't want to  
follow, and she banished it by picking up the book and stroking the  
cover of her latest find lovingly. "Sidereus Nuncius." Thankfully,  
Xanatos had a copy in Latin. Her English was improving, with  
Broadway's help, but she felt much more comfortable reading in the  
first written language she'd learned.

She was only now beginning to realize how lacking her education  
had been. She could read and write, of course, and do mathematics  
past even what her father could, and she knew a bit of history. In  
the past year, she'd picked up geography.

_Lots_ of geography.

She was quickly realizing what she didn't yet know could fill  
these shelves, and did. This particular book told her volumes about  
the workings of the solar system, in simple enough terms that it  
blew her senses.

The Earth not the center of things? The planets and stars not  
on shells around it? The Magus had built a model for her and her  
rookery siblings to show them, and now this new scientist Galilei  
says he was wrong? Oddly enough, she didn't think he'd mind, if  
he'd been able to learn it with her. He would have taken the book  
with him and disappeared for a few nights, maybe even a week. He  
would have come back, half-delirious for not having remembered to  
eat or drink, his eyes lit with knowledge, and he would have tried  
to explain it to the rest of them, sketching the idea out in the air  
with long, graceful fingers. Princess Katharine would probably have  
fussed at him for not taking better care of himself, and then he  
would get a different light in his eyes, and he'd fall silent.

She put the book back on the shelf unfinished. Thoughts of  
home had been nagging at her since the loss of the clocktower. She  
wasn't homesick, and maybe that was the entire problem. She felt  
guilty for not wanting to go back as soon as possible. She missed  
everyone and she did want to see them all again but the differences  
between the two timestreams could very well make that impossible.  
She had the feeling she wouldn't be welcome in Oberon's presence  
until he cooled off over the battle for Alexander. That could take  
years in the World, years that she wouldn't spend with her family  
there, with Gabriel.

Yet another thought she didn't want to face right now.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" She bolted upright. There was  
nothing like a crying baby, of whatever species, to replace unpleasant  
thoughts with more practical ones.

She tapped the baby monitor, knowing it would broadcast to the  
rest of the castle. "I'll get him."

She hadn't spent much time with Alex since moving in; from what  
she'd observed, the nanny had primary baby duty, with Owen filling  
in on her rare evenings off. Her few experiences watching them in  
action had led her to have even deeper respect for her three foster  
parents.

There went her train of thought again.

The nursery was darkened. Her night-vision kicked in before  
she needed to bother with the light. It probably would have upset  
the baby worse anyway.

She stood by his crib for a moment, watching him. Human babies  
were very strange-looking. She picked him up and held him at her  
shoulder. Strange-looking and smelly. She patted his bottom  
experimentally. So that's why he was crying.

She'd watched Lex change a diaper earlier that evening. It  
couldn't be that hard. A few tries later, she had him back in his  
one-piece, clean and dry but still cranky. She left him on the  
changing table while she tried to unravel the mysteries of the  
Diaper Genie.

Amazing things in this modern world, she mused, from  
communication devices that broadcast her words over miles, to  
disposable nappies and near-magical diaper pails. Her foster  
parents would have killed for one, or twelve, of these things.

Of course, for every incredible new invention from this  
scientific age, there came something equally fearsome: nuclear  
bombs, laser rifles, Tickle-Me-Elmo's. She spared a glance to Alex's  
crib, where the red monster he slept with lurked. Alex loved it. The  
rest of the castle's denizens could agree on little, but had come to a  
mutual understanding that this toy was evil incarnate and must be  
destroyed.

After the baby learned to sleep through the night without it,  
that was.

Alex waved his chubby fists unhappily. According to Lex, he  
was starting to cut teeth. For a human, three months was a little  
early, but not unheard of, and Avalon only knew what was normal for  
quarter-fay babies anyway. She picked him up again, this time with  
a rag at her shoulder before she set him there. No use getting her  
wings messy. She started walking back and forth in the room,  
patting his back. He cried harder, and tried to pull away.

"Stop that," she scolded lightly. "You're going to fall, and  
then you'll really start crying." For no reason, she touched him on  
the nose. His head was too big, and the reddish tuft of fuzz he had  
for hair was too fine, and he was way too pale and pink. She  
wondered if he was considered cute for a human.

Her thoughts went back to Avalon. Whatever trouble she and the  
others had caused their parents during the night, at least they'd  
slept all day without waking up. Sometimes they'd even take naps  
after dark. Now she could understand why the humans had been so  
happy, or at least relieved, when it was time for them to go to sleep.

A memory, not entirely formed, came to her, a song she recalled  
from when she was hardly bigger than this one. If there had been  
words she'd long forgotten them but the melody had stayed with her,  
sometimes peeping out as a nonsense song she sang to herself while  
her mind was occupied on other things. It was a lullaby, she  
thought. Maybe it would work on human children as well as it had on  
hatchlings.

Uncertain of the complete song, she simply hummed as much as  
she could remember, stroking Alex's head in time with the rhythm.  
There was something almost exotic about it, not keeping with the  
other songs she'd learned as a child. It was calm, hypnotic in a way,  
lulling her along with Alexander into a dreaming state.

She sat down on the rocking chair, began rocking back and forth  
with the music. Alex's eyelids lowered. His head slipped down her  
arm to rest in what surely was an uncomfortable position, and she  
noted that he was drooling. She kept rocking and humming, until she  
was certain she was about to doze herself. As she finally stopped,  
she heard an intake of breath.

Her head spun around, and she grabbed a protective hold onto  
Alex. She felt her eyes glow for a split second.

Owen stood in the doorway.

She relaxed, until she saw the barely-held fury on his face.

"What?" she asked in a low voice, careful not to disturb the  
baby. "I said I'd get him."

"Where did you hear that song." It was not a request. It was  
a demand for information. Her skin prickled.

"I learned it when I was little."

"On Avalon." Crazily, she thought he'd do terribly on "Jeopardy."

"Yes. Why?" His gaze left hers and went to Alex.

"Never mind."

"Is it a magical song?"

"No," he said too quickly, then frowned in confusion. "Why do  
you ask?"

Why _had_ she asked? Part of her memory kicked in. "The Magus  
sang it to us. I can't remember his singing anything else, either.  
He usually just listened when Princess Katharine taught us to sing."

His eyes grew wide behind his glasses, and his face went as white  
as the sheets in Alex's crib. "I see," he said in a hurried voice very  
much unlike either of his personalities. "I'm sorry for disturbing you. I  
see you have things well taken care of. If you'll excuse me."

Angela watched the doorway after he was gone, trying to make  
heads or tails of the man, and failing that, turned her attention  
towards the baby sleeping in her arms.

Carefully, she got up and placed him back in his crib. He  
stirred. His impossibly blue eyes fluttered open, and she caught  
her breath before he settled them shut again.

"Sleep tight," she whispered. She left the door open a crack,  
then padded back towards the library. The mysteries of the universe  
awaited her.

VVVVV

"Maybe I should go check on him," Fox said distractedly,  
slipping out of the covers before David could stop her.

He let out a noise that in anyone else would have been a  
grumble. "I'm sure he's fine. Angela said she'd take care of him,  
and if she can't, you know Owen or Mrs. Ong will."

She pulled on her robe anyway. "Mrs. Ong is off tonight, and  
we can't always rely on Owen to take care of our baby."

He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. They'd had this  
conversation before. "No, we can't. That's why we hired the nurse."

She glanced back at him, sensed his frustration, mostly with  
her. "David ... "

"I know why you're worried."

She laughed weakly. "You should be, too. I somehow doubt  
Angela's ever changed a diaper before."

"That's not what I meant." He opened his eyes again. "If you  
get pregnant, there's a good chance we'll have to face your  
stepfather all over again."

"And we can't do that."

"If we have to, we will. We fought him once."

"And lost. The only way we're keeping Alex now is by a  
technicality."

"I've bought out multi-national corporations on technicalities."

She glared at him. "Don't joke about this. It scares the hell  
out of me."

He sat up, let the covers gather around his waist, and reached  
to take her hand. Reluctantly, she allowed him to pull her to a  
sitting position beside him.

He enfolded her hands in his own. "We'll be careful."

"We were careful before. Your son is cutting teeth now."

"Then I'll have Owen make up a memo: the next time you're  
released from prison, we'll be sure to have the limo well stocked  
with condoms."

The sincerity in his eyes, matched by the utter innocence on  
his face as he said it, struck her speechless for a few moments,  
then filled her with peals of laughter. "You're serious."

"Absolutely. Of course, now that the Pack is out of prison,  
we'll have to think of a different way to get you out, but ... "

" ... but I'm sure we can think of something." She let herself  
fall into his warm chocolate eyes as his hands moved the robe from  
her shoulders. His lips found her jaw. "I could always seduce the  
Warden," she said.

He pressed her shoulders into the comforter, moved their hands  
above her head until she could grasp one of the posters. "And how  
would you go about that?"

"'Warden, I know I've been an awfully bad girl.'"

David pulled away, and in that way of his that he had, of  
falling instantly into character, he said, "Yes, you have. That  
last escape attempt of yours sent five of my best guards to the  
hospital. You need to learn respect for authority, young woman."

He leaned back and pulled open his bottom dresser drawer, and  
she shivered deliciously. It had been a while. A little harmless  
playacting might be just the ticket. Then she saw the box, and  
frowned.

Right. Safe. Careful. Hell, she supposed she could go back  
on the Pill, though she dreaded the mood swings. The violent  
tendencies had worked _really_ well during that stint in Panama, but  
they were counterbalanced with miserable crying jags.

That wasn't the problem, though, was it?

The problem was Alex. If she could have wrapped an entire  
universe of infinite possibilities into one fragile bundle, she knew  
she could never find anything more wonderful than the small  
squirming mass of baby she'd carried within her own body. When she  
held him, she was aware of holding a series of miracles. Every  
burble was a song from an angel, every intelligent look a benevolent  
glance from a god. As she fed him, she felt the closing of a  
billion cycles of birth and death with every pull.

She was scared to death of him.

No, she could be honest. She was scared of what she could do  
to him. Never mind the ever-present fear of somehow "breaking" him  
every time she touched him, of dropping him each time he was in her  
arms. Those were anxieties she had learned, mostly, to ignore in  
favor of a more practical truth: babies were made from rubber. She  
was far more worried about what she would do to his, for lack of a  
better word, soul.

Fox had never put much stock into organized religion, or any  
other belief system beyond what she could see and feel and  
understand. Her father had his own moral code, to which he adhered  
without outside intrusion. Her mother had always viewed most faiths  
with the detached amusement Fox tended to associate with atheist  
intellectuals, although Anastasia Renard had managed to avoid the  
oft-accompanying attitude of superiority. She saved _that_ for  
scientific debates.

Looking back, her mother's stance made perfect sense; it was  
probably difficult, if not impossible, to have firm religious  
beliefs when at any point in time several gods could show up on her  
doorstep to take her out for pizza and a movie. With such a  
background, Fox was a bit less concerned about Alex's, or her own,  
eventual damnation. She was more worried about what would happen  
while they were still breathing.

She and David had by accident managed to create something  
wonderful, magical, perfect, and she was utterly terrified of  
destroying it. Since the baby's birth, Mrs. Ong and Owen had  
provided the vast majority of his care, feeding him, bathing him,  
reading to him, being with him. Fox had spent some time with him,  
certainly, but never without one or the other within easy reach.  
Like they didn't trust her to take care of her own baby properly,  
and could she blame them? She was more comfortable with grenade  
pins than safety pins, and she certainly didn't know a damn thing  
about magic. She could teach him about munitions, about deadly  
pressure points on a human body, but she didn't have a clue of how  
to handle him when he cried. Unsure of what to do, she'd mentioned  
to David her dissatisfaction with the idea of Owen's raising their  
child, and in archetypal David-fashion, he'd told her earlier that  
evening of his plans to get Owen back into the office.

This was good, she thought. It meant she could spend more time  
with her baby, teaching him everything she wished she'd learned  
young. She could play with him, and wash him, and give him all his  
feedings rather than the dwindling few for which she had to make  
personal appearances. It would be fun, something mothers had done  
since the beginning of the human species.

So why was she certain she'd never be able to do it?

VVVVV

Making breakfast with one hand really wasn't that difficult  
once one was accustomed to it. Mothers of small babies had been  
managing for millennia and if they could do it, certainly His  
Majesty's formerly most favored servant and chief fool could do it  
as well. So he had told himself, and so he had taught himself.

Get bag of coffee beans from freezer, open carefully with right  
fingertips. Measure cup of beans. Sit down. Put grinder between  
knees and open lid. Dump in beans. Grind until ready. Put coffee  
into filter, filter into coffee maker, then turn on. Set pan on stove, then  
turn on burner. Hold package with left fist, pull out requisite strips of  
bacon, toss on pan to cook. Use fork to turn bacon. Hold paper towel  
dispenser still with fist, tear off towels. Fold towels with fingers and, if  
necessary, nose. When bacon is crispy, use fork to get bacon to towels  
to drain. Swear as fingers burn. Swear more at bits of bacon that stick  
to pan. Threaten to turn pan into Brillo pad for baby's next lesson.  
Remember pan is cast iron. Curse more. Put another towel over bacon  
to keep it warm. Open grease jar with EZ-grip rubber whatchamacallit,  
gripping jar firmly with left armpit. Narrowly avoid spilling grease on  
two hundred dollar shoes. Pour out most of grease into jar, leaving  
enough to fry eggs. Open breadbox, get out bread. Rip open bread  
bag with teeth, take out slices. Put in toaster. Crack eggs on edge of  
counter, put into pan. Toss in a few drops of water for steam. Add salt,  
pepper and dill. Put lid on eggs for precisely two minutes. Get  
imported china plates from cabinet, balancing them carefully on stone  
fist. Get toast from toaster. Repeat Butter Maneuver to butter toast.  
Check eggs. Turn off burner. Carefully scoop eggs out of pan with  
spatula and place on plates. Put bacon on plates. Set one plate on fist,  
grab other plate. Walk out to dining room slowly. Give Mrs. Xanatos  
first plate. Give Mr. Xanatos second plate. Go back to kitchen. Pour  
coffee into silver pot. Bring silver coffeepot into dining room. Watch  
as Mr. Xanatos notices eggs, then asks for scrambled. Go back to  
kitchen. Start over.

No, it wasn't that difficult at all.

In fact, it was so bloody simple, maybe he wouldn't mind doing it  
every morning for the rest of his life.

He set the second plate of eggs, this time scrambled, in front of Mr.  
Xanatos, more roughly than he ought. The silverware rattled, causing  
both his employers to look at him in curiosity.

"Owen, is there a problem?"

"No, Sir. If there will be nothing else, I'll be in my office going  
over the day's agenda." It being Saturday, that would be an easy task,  
but one to get his mind on _something_.

"Excellent idea." He returned to the oblivious consumption of his  
eggs, as Fox gave her attention back to the paper.

He took a deep breath, counted to ten, let it out slowly as he walked  
towards the door. When he'd started this role, he hadn't needed any  
kind of calming techniques. He would have to make an effort to tweak  
the character design later this afternoon, before he did something rash.  
Heavens forbid the Puck do something rash.

"Oh, yes. Owen."

He stopped. "Yes?"

"While you're in your office, place an advertisement in the Times  
for a new cook." Before he could stop them, hot words came bubbling  
to his lips. Was he to be replaced simply because he hadn't anticipated  
a change in the breakfast menu? As he opened his mouth to speak,  
Xanatos continued: "I'm going to need you in the office more over the  
next month. Someone should be in charge of the kitchen during the  
day. Broadway practically runs it at night anyway. If we put him on  
salary, perhaps the clan will feel more like members of the household.  
See to it."

"Yes, Sir." He walked out of the room quickly, before either  
of them could note the flush upon his cheeks.

Not replaced, just moved. This master wasn't like the last one. He  
wouldn't throw him out for petty reasons, or even great reasons.

His stride brought him to his own office in less than two  
minutes. Leaving the door ajar as normal, he sat down behind his  
desk, rested his fist out of the way, and began going over the  
agenda. It took him ten minutes to even notice that he was  
rereading the same two lines over and again.

He stood up and closed the door. There was no real difference;  
Mr. Xanatos would come in when he pleased whether it was open, shut,  
or deadlocked (he had the master key). The illusion of privacy was  
enough for the time being.

More than anything else, he needed rest. After Alexander  
started to cry, after he'd gone to check on him, after he'd heard  
Angela singing that terrible song, he had not been able to sleep,  
and his mortal body was showing that lack.

It didn't matter. Nothing did, but the song, and the meaning  
of that song.

He could remember the first photograph he'd ever seen. The  
subject, a ten-year-old boy, had been made to sit perfectly still  
for thirty seconds, a feat he had previously suspected was beyond  
the child in question. When he'd seen the final product, it had  
been silver-grey, and small, and had come in a gold framed box with  
velvet inside. He had been utterly amazed, for the boy was inside  
that box, or at least his image. He had "borrowed" the picture,  
nearly wore out the fine hinge by closing it, and reopening to see  
if the picture was still there. It was a way of capturing memories,  
keeping them bright and purposeful, giving the people inside  
immortality of their own. The boy had grown up, lived briefly, died  
at a decent age for a human. The picture remained, currently in the  
possession of one of his many descendants.

There was another face in his mind, from a time long before  
picture boxes had been invented. He had only his memories, and  
being who he was, they were as clear to him as the boy's face had  
been inside that golden box. His memories were likewise given sound  
and even touch, so while he might stopper his ears, inside his mind  
he still heard crying, felt the hard-packed clay beneath his feet as  
he walked quickly away from it.

Angela had asked him if the song was magical, and he'd answered  
truthfully. Not one bit of magic had gone into its creation, save that  
which was _him_. He'd left part of himself in those notes, the more so  
since he had not sung them or played them since that awful day. The  
crying had followed him for years afterwards. Only by making himself  
not think of it had he been able to quiet the sound.

He sat at his desk, wondering if he would ever again know silence.

VVVVV 


	2. Chapter 2

VVVVV  
Consequences Part One: Fortune and Men's Eyes (2/3)  
a Gargoyles story  
by Merlin Missy  
Copyright 1997, 2005  
PG-13  
VVVVV

She'd chosen to wear simple navy-blue pumps today, but still  
her heels made a distinct clicking sound as she walked through the  
long row of cells. The Women's Annex to the Riker's Island Maximum  
Security Correctional Facility had all the charm and affability of  
a dentist's drill. Just as she remembered.

Fox paused outside of what had once been her cell. How many  
months had she spent in here, first alone, and then with Hyena as a  
constantly grating companion? It had been the closest thing she'd  
ever known to hell. She recalled the hours she'd spent, staring out  
the tiny window, wishing she could just think herself into a  
butterfly and slip out through the bars. There had been times when  
she'd closed her eyes and felt the breeze buffeting her wings as she  
fluttered over the water to David's waiting arms.

Recent events suggested to her that, had she only known how,  
she might have actually changed her body into the small one. As the  
song went, it was a little too ironic for her taste.

The guards looked at her with a mixture of nervousness and  
contempt, no doubt wondering why she was pausing _here_. They  
knew who she was, had known her when she'd been the butterfly  
trapped in their cage. But now, she wasn't their prisoner. She was one  
of the wealthiest people in the city, if not the world, and they had to  
treat her with respect. She could see how it nettled them, and she  
secretly gloated.

One of them, the male, was about to say something to her when  
she continued her walk. There were faces in the other cells, some  
familiar, some strange, some making vulgar comments or gestures,  
some lost in their own private worlds. This was me, she thought. A  
year and a half ago, this was me.

When they reached the door at the end of the hall, the guards  
took out two keys, inserted them into the matching locks, and turned  
them simultaneously. The door ground open. They made a sharp turn  
towards the innards of the building. The brick walls were now  
hidden behind reinforced steel plating, all painted the same  
disgusting yellow as the bricks had been. The light was a little  
dimmer down here, though she wasn't certain it was due to lower  
lighting as much as lack of sunlight. Her heels echoed louder. She  
wished she'd worn slippers, for the clicking was beginning to drive  
her nuts.

Another locked door led them to their destination. Three armed  
guards stood outside the cell. She made a bet with herself that the  
safeties were off on their rifles. Dangerous, she thought, but  
probably smart. Her escorts took out their own weapons, holding  
them at their sides so as to be ready just in case.

"You have five minutes," said her female escort. She nodded  
and stepped to the bars. The other guards tensed slightly, and she  
hoped they wouldn't open fire if she sneezed.

"Hey," she said to the occupant of the cell.

Hyena, who had been inspecting the wall, turned her head  
towards her.

"So you finally decided to pay a visit." She hopped up from  
her bunk, going about a foot higher than necessary. Fox noticed the  
guard nearest to her clutch his gun in reflex. To be fair, he  
showed no other sign of agitation. Hyena prowled over to the bars,  
until their faces were less than six inches apart.

"I got your message. It took me a few days to convince my  
parole officer I wasn't going to have a relapse by being in the same  
room with you." She turned her mouth to show her opinion of the  
parole officer. Hyena rolled her eyes in response.

"So didja bring me anything?" For an instant, she sounded like  
a little girl whose mother had just come back from vacation.

She nodded. "Your favorite, x-rayed, picked over, metal  
detected, and completely read three times to make sure there's  
nothing in it." She handed the "Daily Tattler" through the bars,  
under careful scrutiny of the guards. Hyena grabbed it and looked  
longingly at the headlines.

"Cool! When did Rush admit he was bonking Jerry Falwell?"

"Last week. They've got pictures on page 10."

Hyena looked at the other items on the front page, then set it  
down. "Thanks, Fox."

"You're welcome. So how're they treating you?"

"Just fantastic." She spread her hands. "I've got constant  
company, the best in prison food, and they even let me keep a pet."  
She opened a compartment on her arm. A cockroach about the size of  
Alexander's big toe looked out helplessly from inside before the  
compartment slid closed again. "I call him Spike." Her face turned  
cold. "How do you _think_ I'm doing?"

She had been expecting this. She had to tread carefully. "I didn't  
force you to break into the museum, Hyena. You had a choice."

"Some choice. Jackal and I had a job to do, and if those damned  
gargoyles hadn't shown up, we could have done it and been living the  
good life now."

"Those 'damned gargoyles' saved Alexander's life. David and I  
are grateful to them."

Hyena's head shot up. "Don't tell me you've called a truce."

"A temporary one, I assure you. Just enough to get their trust  
back to where we need it." Although, she thought, it might be more  
permanent than we thought. David hadn't once mentioned any  
intention of breaking the peace, and she'd chosen not to bring it up  
without a cue from him.

Hyena grinned and slammed her fist into a metal palm. "I get  
it. Get them to trust you, then 'WHAMMO!'"

"Something like that."

The other woman's face turned wistful, and again Fox was put  
uncomfortably in mind of a very young child. A child she had  
created, in too many ways. "What's it like?"

"What?"

"To live in the castle, with the man of your dreams and a baby  
and the world at your feet. I've been trying to imagine. Back a  
few months ago, I had this idea that maybe Coyote and I might hook  
up, and then we could live with you guys up there." She looked  
away. "It was stupid. I mean, he's just a machine, right? No  
feelings, and he had a bad habit of getting blown up, but he was the  
closest thing I had to having _someone_ in a long time. You know?"  
She looked back to her, some last trace of whatever innocence she  
might have once had reflected on her face.

"I know," said Fox. This she hadn't been expecting, and she  
tried hard to think of the right thing to say. "It's great, I guess. I have to  
sit in on too many board meetings for my liking, and Alex takes up a lot  
of time." She felt a burning sensation in the back of her thoughts, but  
ignored it as she continued: "David and I have only gotten out a few  
times in the past couple months." She realized moments later what  
she'd said when she saw Hyena's face.

"Only a few, huh?"

She found that she couldn't meet her eyes. "Yeah."

"It's not fair, Fox." Her voice was a low whisper; the guards  
probably couldn't hear. "I know what you did."

"What are you talking about?"

"How you set the rest of us up, you and your hubby. He broke  
us out of jail to get you out legally. He probably got Jackal and  
me arrested in the first place."

"What gave you that idea?" She was floundering and trying not  
to show it. She thought back desperately to their time on the show,  
when she'd forget her line now and then. Ad libbing had worked  
wonders. Of course, it was easier when their dialogue never got  
more complicated than: "Wibblefish!"

"It all adds up. He gets us to go after him, we get caught and  
locked away. Then he busts us out while you play good, and  
suddenly, you get an early parole. All nice and legal. Meanwhile,  
we're on the run for the rest of our lives. And after a while," she  
flexed her left hand, the metal scraping together with a screech,  
"we're ready to do anything to stay out of this place, whether it  
means trading in our bodies for spare parts, or selling what's left  
of our souls to your waiting husband." The other woman looked at  
her through the bars, daring her to deny it.

She couldn't. She _really_ hadn't been expecting this. Hyena had  
never been very bright, preferring to use her weapons, muscles, or if all  
else failed, the rest of her body to meet her ends. Fox had never  
considered that she might figure out just how much she'd been used in  
the past two years, and come to resent it.

"What are you getting at?" She put enough impatience in her  
voice to hopefully make the guards think she was annoyed rather than  
worried.

"You owe me. You got me into this, all of it." She extended her  
hearing-sensors out six inches from her head and pulled them back.  
Fox tried not to show her disgust. "You owe me," she repeated.

"I'm not breaking you out, Hyena."

Weirdly enough, she laughed, in the same way she always had, and  
Fox's skin crawled. "I didn't expect you would. And anyway, that's not  
what I'm asking. Not this time." Her face turned deadly serious. "I've  
got a little problem."

VVVVV

"Did she say who the father was?"

"No. _She_ might not even know."

David made a noncommittal sound. He had seemed only  
peripherally interested in the conversation anyway, his attention more  
focused on counting Alex's toes than on listening to her. She shifted  
the baby's position as he nursed, allowing a slightly different view of  
the scenery and found his eyes back on her again, albeit lower than she  
wanted right now.

David, finally noticing her less than amused expression at being  
ignored, made eye contact and had the good sense to look apologetic.  
"I'm sorry, my dear. What does she want us to do about it? I can  
probably arrange an abortion. I don't see the prison officials raising  
more than a token objection, and moral considerations aside, even they  
have to see that she can't possibly carry a baby to term."

"I'm not so sure about that." She stood swiftly, holding Alex  
with one arm and digging through her briefcase for papers with the  
other. She found what she was looking for, and sat down again.  
"Here are the specs behind her design. I had them sent up this  
afternoon." After spending half an hour on the phone with two of  
our now ex-employees who couldn't understand why on earth I'd want  
to see them.

David took the plans from her and looked them over. She  
continued, "Not a lot of her is still organic, but the right parts  
are there. She'll have some difficulty around month eight, if she  
carries anything like I did." She reached over and pointed out  
positions where Hyena's implants would get in the way of an  
expanding abdomen. "However, if we have this one removed, _that_  
one can be adjusted to where it won't hurt her as much, or damage  
the baby."

Alex squirmed, his own positioning getting offset by her  
movements. She settled back into place and winced as he grasped  
hold of her with tiny, sharp fingernails.

David continued perusing the diagrams. "It's possible, I  
suppose. So does she _want_ to have the baby?"

She shrugged, then regretted it as Alex squeezed again. She  
gently pried his fingers open as she said, "I think she knows this  
is it, if she wants kids at all. And she does, but ... "

"But?"

"Prison is no place for a baby. You know that. So does  
Hyena."

She had his full attention. "Fox."

"She said we owed her. We arranged everything that got her  
arrested, that made her what she is."

"You knew her record when we hired her, dear. If Hyena and  
Jackal hadn't been working for us, they would have found their own  
route to jail all by themselves."

"Maybe. And maybe we paved the way."

He took her hands. "Don't tell me you've discovered guilt for the  
first time. Maybe we opened the door for her, but remember she was  
the one who walked through."

"It'll only be for a little while, possibly only a few days. I'll ask  
Owen to start looking for family members in the morning."

"Can it wait until Monday? I've got him working on something  
for me this weekend."

"It can wait. We've got until at least January. Then we'll  
have a nice, normal human baby around the castle for less than a  
week, and ship him off again. No muss, no fuss."

"Are you sure about that?"

"About the 'normal' or the 'human?' I don't really know, if  
you want the truth. I mean, there weren't that many men she was  
around, and unless Coyote 3.0 had an added feature you neglected to  
mention, he certainly wasn't the father." She'd been going over a  
mental list of potential daddies, and had found herself _hoping_ it  
was Vogel. It wasn't that she could possibly picture him ever  
getting cozy with Hyena, but more along the lines that she found the  
rest of the list quite short. And disturbing. "Normal enough,  
anyway."

"I meant about the staying only a few days part. If we get  
many more residents, we're going to have to declare ourselves an  
independent nation."

"He's _not_ staying." Which wasn't quite what Hyena was  
expecting, admittedly. She would be signing papers soon enough to  
give custody of her little mistake to Fox and David, who would then  
grant it to whichever non-clinically-insane relative of the woman  
they could track down first. "I don't want another baby, David."

Alex moved in her arms, bright blue eyes looking up at her  
inquisitively. If it weren't for the fact that Owen had _sworn_ he  
wasn't telepathic, yet, she would have been convinced her son was  
asking what was wrong with having another baby.

She added quickly, "Besides, who knows what this kid will be  
like? Do you want a little copy of Hyena, or gods help us _Jackal_,  
running around underfoot?"

"Of course not." He was watching her face. She knew what _he_  
was thinking, how he was assessing her behavior in regards to her  
words. He was judging how much to trust what she said, and how  
much to disregard, and while he did so, he toed a very thin line between  
understanding and patronizing. She hated when he did that, and  
glowered at him.

And the truth was ... ? She tightened her hold on Alex a tiny  
bit more. She'd been with him for two hours and hadn't broken him  
or gotten him arrested. David had been nearby, and Owen had been in  
calling distance, and damn, but she'd been grateful for them both,  
hadn't she?

The truth was, she was a failure at this. She could admit that  
to herself. Some people were excellent parents, and some just  
weren't cut out for the task. If Alex were a puppy, she would  
return him to the breeder. So sorry, not what we expected, find  
another good home, please. But he wasn't a puppy, and she couldn't  
send him back where he came from, because she'd been the damned  
broodmare. She frowned even deeper at David. This had been for  
_his_ personal little dynasty, and now Alex had to suffer because  
she wasn't a good mother.

She felt tears welling inside her, and pushed them down hard.  
She wasn't about to cry. Crying was stupid, especially over  
something as trivial as the fact that she had no hope of raising her  
baby right, and David thought she wanted _another_ one?

No, she would find a home for the other kid, as far from her as  
she could take him, and then maybe she could make up for all the  
mistakes she was about to make with her own child.

David said nothing.

VVVVV

It had been a very long day for Beth. Her parents were early  
risers, something none of their children could understand, and while  
they had let her sleep in because she _was_ on vacation, they'd made  
enough noise to make certain she was up by eight-thirty.

Sarah, who was also a morning person, had worn a smile to  
breakfast. It really wasn't fair that she could get by on two or  
three hours of sleep a night, when Beth needed at least six just to  
be able to move the following day.

If it hadn't been for an afternoon art class the previous Spring,  
through which they'd only barely kept one another awake in, she  
doubted they would have even met, much less become best friends.  
Since Sarah couldn't exactly fly back to Malaysia for a four-day  
holiday, and since she otherwise might not have the opportunity to  
see New York at all during her time in the States, it made perfect  
sense for her to come home with Beth. That was what she'd told her  
mother on the phone when she'd mentioned Sarah was coming with her  
for the Break, and that was the story she'd stuck to when Elisa had  
come early in the afternoon to pick them up for a tour of the city.

They'd parked the car at Elisa's apartment and walked through  
the downtown district. They'd spent a long time walking around FAO  
Schwartz, where Elisa had dropped a surprisingly large amount of  
money in the Sesame Street section. Back outside, Sarah had taken  
two rolls' worth of photos, while Beth had questioned her sister as  
best she could on the status of things with Goliath, without giving  
too much away. She hadn't been able to tell Sarah about him, or  
Derek, or a lot of other things, and phrasing her inquiries had been  
as challenging a task as she'd ever undertaken, especially when  
Elisa's mood clouded over the moment they caught sight of the Eyrie  
Building.

So the gargoyles were living there again.

She wasn't happy at the thought. Beth had hated Xanatos since  
she'd discovered what had become of her brother. Having her and  
their father arrested while he'd been in the process of desecrating  
tribal property really hadn't improved her attitude. She could only  
imagine Elisa felt the same, and probably wasn't keen on letting him  
have his clutches on her friends while she was stuck driving her  
sister and some stranger around.

When Elisa had asked if she was seeing someone, she'd only been  
able to answer, "Yeah. Kind of." She'd kept her eyes forward, felt  
an expectant watch from the back seat, and had dodged the question  
when Elisa had asked her what his name was.

They'd all been in bad moods by the time the Fairlane brought  
them back to the house. She'd hugged her sister good-bye, but  
hadn't watched her drive off. She'd made a reminder to call her in  
the morning and explain everything, maybe find out more about why  
the gargoyles were there rather than anywhere else in the city.

Yes, tomorrow.

"Mom, Dad," she said, unlocking the door. "We're back."

Her mother's musical voice came from the kitchen. "Your father  
went to the store. Is Elisa with you?"

"No. She had to go see Maggie about something." More like,  
she needed to blow off some steam. For whatever reason, she'd been  
edgy all night, even before they'd seen the castle, and saying she  
needed to talk to Maggie was probably her way of not worrying their  
parents.

"Who's Maggie, anyway?" asked Sarah, not loud enough for her  
mother to hear.

She shrugged casually, she hoped. "Friend of the family."

Even lower, "Is she cute?"

"My brother thinks so."

Sarah's eyes glittered as she said, "Then maybe I can meet her  
when I meet Derek."

Oh. Great. "Well ... Maybe."

Her eyes lost the sparkle. "Yeah, maybe." Perfect. Now Sarah  
would think Beth didn't want her brother to meet her, and she  
couldn't explain that wasn't the case at all without spilling  
everything. Yet another reason to hate Xanatos.

Her mother appeared in the doorway. "Did Elisa feed you? If  
not, we're having smothered burritos."

Beth's stomach rumbled appreciatively. "Sounds great."

"I'm still full from those pretzels," Sarah said, "but thank  
you."

Oops. Guess what else she'd forgotten to tell her parents.  
"We've got bread, cheese, pasta, all sorts of things for salad."

Mom looked confused. Sarah explained, "I'm a vegetarian."

"Beth, why didn't you tell me? I could have made something  
else. I still can."

"No, really," said Sarah. "Like I said, I'm full. Elisa  
bought us huge pretzels with cheese on them about an hour ago. But  
thanks."

The door opened, and Dad came in with a small brown bag.  
"You're home just in time," he said, pulling out a pint of sour cream  
with a flourish and setting it on the table. "Where's Elisa?"

"Gone to see Maggie," said Mom, ending the conversation before  
it started.

"If you don't mind, I'll go back to your room so you can spend  
some time with your parents."

"Sarah ... "

"You can talk to them," she said, and waved as she went down the  
hall into Beth's room and closed the door most of the way.

"What was that about?" Dad was still a few steps behind.

"A lot of things," she said, and before they could ask, she went into  
the kitchen to wash her hands for supper, and try to figure out what to  
say next.

VVVVV

Brooklyn flared his wings and dove nearly to street level, before  
gliding off again. He sighed in pure joy as the tendons in his shoulders  
and back stretched taut and relaxed. He'd been pining for this kind of  
exercise; staying inside, while prudent considering the city's attitude  
towards gargoyles right now, was wearing on muscles best moved  
nightly. It felt good to be allowed out.

Feeling better, he gained altitude, choosing a higher vantage  
point for his patrol than he might normally. Being outside did not  
necessarily equate to being stupid. They had gathered around the  
t.v. shortly after waking, to see a news broadcast about some  
vigilante group called the Quarrymen. The spokesman for the group  
declared them "part Guardian Angels, all concerned citizens,  
protecting the rights of humans in the city to exist without fear of  
winged monsters." The leader, whose name he'd forgotten anyway,  
couldn't be reached for comment.

Just the way he'd wanted to start his night.

Hell with it. He wasn't going to let slow-witted ramblings of  
a few scared humans ruin the night. He snorted. There were plenty  
of other things waiting to do _that_.

Angela was avoiding him, had been since before they'd gone back  
to Wyvern. The only thing making him feel remotely better was the  
knowledge she was also avoiding Broadway and Lex, though it seemed  
not nearly to the extent she stayed away from him. He could accept  
and respect her decision to stay "just friends" with all of them; if  
he didn't, he was sure she'd rip him a new nostril, and that was  
even before Goliath did anything. He would stay away while she got  
whatever together in her own head.

But ...

His mind returned to the problem it had been whispering to him  
since the moment she'd arrived. What if, when she made her choice,  
she chose someone else? Could he live with the thought of her smile  
being for one of his rookery brothers? With the knowledge that,  
once she chose, he would never have another chance with her, or  
possibly anyone? When he slept, he dreamed of her bright face,  
seeing something new for the very first time. When she was in the  
room, it was empty to him save for her. When she hugged him, as she  
had all of three times, his heart ached to enfold her in his wings  
and never let go. If he were to lose her, it would be the single  
worst blow to his soul he'd ever experienced, save only the loss of  
his entire clan.

Love wasn't all he'd thought it would be.

VVVVV

"I don't want to talk about this," Maggie said, turning her  
face from Elisa's. That brought her eyes back to the kids, who  
really shouldn't have been watching this, playing quietly in a  
corner of the room. She closed them.

"Maggie, please." Derek had hit a state of calmness she'd  
almost never seen in him, a perfect counterpoint to the disarray in  
her own emotions.

"Don't you get it? I don't want to see them. Not tonight, not  
tomorrow night, not ever again. They made it clear when I left that  
I wasn't welcome back. They can live with that."

Elisa sat back in her chair. She looked ready to give in,  
which filled Maggie with relief and also a little unhappiness she  
wouldn't acknowledge.

Derek wasn't going to be as easily swayed.

"Love," he said, splaying his fingers on the table, an inch  
away from her own, "you've only got one set of parents. Maybe  
they'll get upset, and maybe they will say or do something we don't  
like. But either way, you've got to tell them you're alive and all  
right. You don't owe them anything else, but you do owe them that."

She felt tears hitching in her chest, pushed them down so the  
kids wouldn't see. Oh god, something else her mother had taught  
her. She took a deep shuddering breath. "I can't. I can't face  
them. Please don't make me."

"All right," said Elisa. "Then we're going to have to think of  
a story to get them out of town."

"Can't you just tell them you couldn't find anything?"

She shook her head. "If they'd stayed in Ohio, yes. If I don't locate  
something on you, the Captain will give the case to someone better at  
MP than I am. It might take a while, but whoever it is will get to you  
eventually, and they're going to ask questions we'd like to keep  
unanswered."

"Why?" asked Derek. "If they trace her back to Xanatos, then  
maybe he'll get what's his."

Elisa looked away. "Yeah, maybe." That would mean exposing  
the gargoyles to the world. They _might_ be able to cover up what  
had already been broadcast, but anything else would be deadly. If  
for some reason anyone dug into Sevarius' files, they'd find a hell  
of a lot more than just four mutated humans. They would find  
records on gargoyles, and on gargoyle clones.

She looked at the kids again. Elisa had brought a few toys  
with her, mostly stuffed animals that she said she'd been keeping in  
the back of her closet, probably for her own children.

Elisa must have finally realized the truth, that Delilah and  
Angela were the closest she would ever come to having kids of her  
own. Angela was too old for stuffed animals, and while Delilah  
might genetically be her daughter, the emotional ties were still too  
odd for anyone's liking. As she watched, 'Lilah cuddled a stuffed  
Grover affectionately. It was one of the sweetest things she'd ever  
seen, but one utterly unexplainable to someone like her father.  
He'd see Delilah as a monster, some genetic freak made by the  
unnatural fusion of DNA from two women of different species.  
Knowing her father as well as she did, he'd make a comment about it  
not being surprising, since Elisa was after all one of Them.

"This is a bad idea," she said. "My father ... "

Derek said gently, "You already told us. He'll learn to deal  
with it. Mom's family wasn't too fond of Dad when they started  
seeing each other. They came around to the ol' Maza charm."

Elisa chuckled. "Yeah, right after I was born. They'd only  
been married what, three years?"

"That settles it," said Derek. "We'll have a baby. Then your  
dad will adore me."

"That's not quite how it works," reminded his sister.

"Sure it is," Maggie piped up, trying to keep her voice from  
cracking. "Tell them to come back about six months from now."

"Exactly," said Derek. "We'll order up one directly." His  
eyes widened. "For. Them." He tilted his head slowly, turning  
towards her like some animatronic imitation of her lover. "Huh?"

Elisa's eyes lit like candles, though she said nothing.

Maggie took Derek's hand. "I've been trying to figure out how  
to tell you for a few days. Guess this is as good a time as any."

Derek was caught a few steps back. "Six?"

He was awfully sweet when he was confused. "Six. As in nine  
minus three. As in Marchish, I think."

Elisa licked her lips. "How do you feel about it?"

"I don't know," she said. "Scared?" She smiled. "Happy?"  
She asked Derek, whose head was still tilted, "How do you feel,  
Love?"

He said nothing. Elisa snapped her fingers in front of his  
face. "Ground Control to Major Tom."

"Huh?"

"You're going to be a daddy. Your girlfriend has just asked  
you how you feel about it."

"Oh yeah." His lips curled, showing the tips of his pointed  
teeth. His bottom lip pulled down, showing a wide grin. "Baby."

Malibu looked up from the toys. "Baby?"

"Yes," said Maggie. "Baby. A little one like Talon and me.  
Short and fuzzy with wings and a tail." She set her elbows on the  
table. "Oh god."

Derek finally snapped back to reality. "Love, it'll be okay.  
Maybe the kid'll be perfectly normal." He held her hand, shining  
hope in his voice.

"And maybe it'll be worse. Who knows what Sevarius did to our  
DNA while he was messing with it?" The sleep of reason, she thought  
madly. The sleep of reason. She trembled.

He pulled her hand against his chest and rubbed it. "We'll  
figure it out. We'll figure it all out. I love you," he whispered.  
He placed his forehead against hers, and repeated, "I love you."

"I love you, too," she said automatically. "I'm just so scared." She  
broke off. She felt his arms surrounding her again, snuggled into the  
safety of them, ignoring the fact this was what had caused the problem  
in the first place. Another hand, Elisa's, stroked her shoulder.

"Maggie," she said gently, "what do you want to do?"

She knew instantly what Elisa was asking. There was a huge  
chance of something, anything going wrong. Her mother'd had  
enough pregnancy troubles with Maggie's being a different blood  
type. Technically, she and Derek weren't even the same species. It  
would be impossible to say what kind of effect that would have on  
her, on the child. If there was a cure, ever, she still had some  
hope of a healthy human baby, and currently, she had other children  
to raise, and if she cursed someone else to the kind of life she  
faced, was she any better than Sevarius himself?

"I'm not sure. Of anything."

She was going to have to face it eventually. She would have to  
face _everything_ eventually. Now that she'd finally told, she  
wouldn't face it alone. And maybe that was the important thing.  
Elisa had been right; her parents wouldn't give up looking for her  
unless they were certain she was dead. Her mother would do it out  
of love, her father from his loathing of the idea of having lost  
something he possessed. She was terrified of facing them as she  
was, especially now that she had something real and important to  
protect, not just this potential child, but the kids in the corner,  
who had stopped playing, concerned at why she was upset. Facing her  
parents might be enough to bring down the card-castle life they'd  
built here. But she wouldn't have to face them by herself, either.  
She'd have Derek and Elisa with her, and with them came their  
parents and the clan. Her army. Met with that kind of strength,  
surely even her father would back down.

She didn't dare. But more, she didn't dare not to face him again.

"So," she said to Elisa, "when do you want to set up the meeting?"

VVVVV

Sarah looked up over the magazine she was reading. Beth  
couldn't see the title, but there was a picture of Emma Thompson on  
the cover, wearing a wide, innocent smile. Sarah wasn't smiling,  
but her eyes were like Emma's: alive, filled with darting light.

"Did you tell them?"

She opened her mouth to speak, closed it again.

"Beth." Sarah's voice was tired. "You're going to have to  
tell them eventually. Believe me, sooner is better than later."

Beth sat down on the edge of her bed. Instead of looking at  
Sarah, she looked at the two shelves above her. When she'd been  
little, they'd held stuffed animals. As she'd grown older, the  
animals had migrated to her bed, and then to the closet, to be  
replaced by books. She could even remember the progression of the  
books. Dr. Seuss had bowed early to Nancy Drew and the Brothers  
Grimm. Nancy had been replaced by Judy Blume, but the Brothers had  
stayed, and were joined by Homer, Hugo, Raglan and Radin. Judy had  
eventually followed Nancy, and Alice Walker and Toni Morrison had  
taken her place. The last collection of books had followed her to  
Flagstaff, where they now graced her room. In her absence, Mom had  
taken the stuffed animals out of the closet to let them reclaim  
their rightful territory.

"It's not that easy."

Sarah sat up and placed her hands around Beth's. "It's not  
_going_ to be easy."

She sighed. "Sarah, you don't understand. Now's really not a  
good time for my folks."

"Elisa or Derek?"

She slumped. "Would you believe both?"

Sarah nodded. "I'd believe it. But you're not Elisa, and  
you're certainly not Derek." She smiled playfully. "I would have  
noticed by now."

Beth knew exactly what she meant, but entertained a very brief  
mental image of Derek walking in, and Sarah's subsequent reaction.

_Oh yes, you would have noticed all right._ "I guess it's the  
'Grandparent Thing.' Like I told you, Derek's girlfriend can't have  
kids, and the guy Elisa's dating already has a family." _Boy, does  
he have a family._

"So what? You can have kids if you want. And if you don't  
want to, you don't have to. You're not a baby machine, dear."

"It's not like that."

"Then what is it like!" Sarah's voice had risen in volume, and  
Beth worried suddenly that someone might hear. She motioned for  
Sarah to speak quieter. "You're not shutting me up, Beth. We need  
to talk, and it sounds like we need to talk right now."

"We _can_ talk. Quietly."

A flicker crossed Sarah's eyes. "You're ashamed of me."

"What?"

"Either that, or you don't trust me. It has to be one or the other. I  
can read your eyes. You've got a secret inside that's eating you alive. If  
it's me, you're afraid to tell your parents about us, and in my book, that's  
tied up with a hell of a lot of guilt. If it's not me, then there's something  
else you're holding inside, and you don't trust me enough to tell me  
what it is."

"I trust you," she whispered. Sarah nodded slightly, her face open,  
ready to accept whatever she had to say. Beth felt her own heart  
breaking as she added, "But I can't tell you. It's not my secret to share."

Sarah looked down, and gently pulled her hands away. "Fine."  
She grabbed her jacket from where it was draped over the desk chair.

"Where are you going?"

"Out for a walk."

"But it's dark!"

"So? I can take care of myself." She pulled the door firmly shut  
behind her. It wasn't a slam, but it had as much force as one.

Beth remained sitting for two seconds, then followed her. She  
made it as far as the living room, and was treated to the sight of  
another closing door.

Mom looked at the door. "Where on earth is Sarah going? She  
didn't say a word."

"Out. She'll be okay."

"Are you sure? She's never been to New York before." That was  
something she'd come to both treasure and dread about her mother;  
once she'd made acquaintance with one of her children's friends, that  
friend had another parent. She could just imagine her mothering  
Goliath.

"I'm sure. When she comes back, tell her I'm in my room."

The sound of a running drain came from the kitchen. Dad came  
out, drying his hands on a dishtowel. "Maybe we should have a talk  
about your friend."

Her heart stopped. His tone was casual, but ... "What do you  
mean?"

"I'd hate to think she feels unwelcome here."

"She doesn't. She likes having her own space." Maybe too much  
space, she thought. "She's about as free a spirit as they come."  
_That's why we became friends,_ she thought. _Sarah was so different  
from everyone else I knew, so alive, so independent, so **real**. So  
perfect._

She decided in an instant. She opened her mouth, intending to  
tell them everything. "I ... " The phone rang. "I'll get it." She grabbed  
the receiver. "Hello?"

Elisa's voice was on the other end. "Hi Beth. Are Mom and Dad  
home?"

"Hi sis. Yeah. Which one do you want?"

"Both. Can you put it on speaker?"

"Hold on." She pressed the button. "There you go." Her  
parents joined her by the speaker.

"What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Nothing we can't change," said Mom. "Why?"

"Derek's going to meet Maggie's parents. I think it would be  
good for them if we were all there at the same time."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" asked Mom, the question  
reflected on Dad's face.

"Yes. We're sure." Then, in a completely different tone: "By  
the way, can you be there early? We'd like to have a meeting before  
they arrive."

"What time do you want us there?" asked Dad.

"Six-thirty. My place. The Reeds won't be there until eight.  
That ought to be plenty of time."

Plenty of time for what? Meeting? Beth wasn't sure she wanted  
to know, and moments after saying their I-love-you-good-bye's, she  
wasn't even sure she was invited. Was Elisa going to prepare the  
Reeds for this? How? She recalled her first sight of Derek after  
his transformation, how awful and frightening he'd looked, but it  
had been her big brother inside the looming monster. Surely  
Maggie's parents would understand. After all, no matter what she  
had become, she was still their daughter.

Right?

VVVVV


	3. Chapter 3

VVVVV  
Consequences Part One: Fortune and Men's Eyes (3/3)  
a Gargoyles story  
by Merlin Missy  
Copyright 1997, 2005  
PG-13  
VVVVV

Brooklyn soared upwards, narrowly avoiding a collision with an  
office building. It was smaller than many of the mid-town  
buildings, and with a start, he realized his "vigilant" patrolling  
techniques hadn't clued him into the fact that he was heading out  
into the 'burbs. Come to think of it, if he went out much further,  
he'd be near the Mazas' place.

Something Elisa had mentioned came back to him. Her sister was  
home on a four-day weekend, and had brought a friend along.

Damn, that meant no popping in for a quick hello.

He veered off just as the house came into view, then circled  
back over it again. Someone was coming outside. Beth? He'd met  
Elisa's sister briefly when she'd come home for a week in the  
summer. Somehow, she'd avoided inheriting the temper Elisa and  
Talon demonstrated, while keeping much of the same awed wonder at  
the world. He had speculated aloud how such different people could  
be in the same family, regretting it an instant later as he saw  
Angela's flinch. No wonder she hated him.

As he flew a little closer, he could see it wasn't Beth, but  
another human female. Oh well. She headed out along the sidewalk,  
hands shoved in her jacket pockets, and concentrated on the ground.  
Not bright, he thought. Even out here, people didn't generally walk  
outside alone, especially females. It just wasn't done.

Still, it wasn't his problem. Whoever it was had the right to  
throw away her life as she pleased.

Which didn't explain why he turned back again and started  
following her. She had an easy gait he found difficult to maintain;  
gliding slowly was more difficult than going fast. He flew past her  
twice before pulling up higher. He could watch from safety up here,  
and still have plenty of time to move in should anything bad happen.

As he watched, his thoughts drifted to Angela again. The night  
before, he'd seen her reading in the library, and had almost gone  
over to strike up a conversation. Something about the play of the  
light from the fast-waning moon about her face and hair struck him  
dumb in holy terror. In that moment, she was divine, and he a poor  
wretch who believed himself worthy of the attentions of a goddess.  
Unable to leave the castle, he'd run to the topmost tower, his  
breath sobbing in his chest, trying to reconcile too many thoughts  
and feelings into a manageable form. He'd spent most of the night  
up there.

His reveries nearly threw him into a tree. He pulled back and  
made an awkward landing several feet behind the woman. He ducked  
into shadow.

She pulled up straight and looked back. "Who's there? Beth,  
is that you?"

As if she wasn't moving at all, she pulled her body around to  
a warning stance, scanning the area. He hid himself deeper in the  
darkness, wishing he was anywhere else.

She walked closer to his hiding place. "Come on," she said,  
her body still tensed, but less so than before. "Let me see you."

He debated quickly. He couldn't allow her to see him; all they  
needed PR-wise was to be seen as suburban stalkers as well as  
threats to the city proper.

"Don't come any closer," he said in a gruff voice.

She stopped. "All right."

There was silence for several minutes. Maybe she went away,  
he hoped. He allowed himself a peek. She stood in the same  
position, not even seeming to breathe. He pulled back quickly,  
heart racing. He had to get out of here, but the house he was  
hiding beside had aluminum siding. Not good for climbing.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" she asked. There was  
something off in her pronunciation, but he couldn't place it.

"If you are."

"Why don't you come out here into the light? I promise not to  
hurt you." She wasn't going to hurt _him_? That was a new ... She  
hadn't seen him. She still didn't know what he was.

"I'd rather not," he said.

"You really shouldn't be lurking in dark places," she replied.  
"It isn't safe to be out here by yourself at night."

Wasn't this what he had just been telling himself about the  
human? "You're out here."

"I can take care of myself."

"So can I."

"All right then."

"All right then," he repeated. Again they descended into  
silence. This time he didn't look to see if she was still waiting  
for him. He knew she was. "Look, I should probably get going."

"Then go."

"You're still standing there."

"I'm not moving, either."

"Then could you close your eyes?"

"Would _you_ close your eyes if our situations were reversed?"

He tried a different tack. "I know Beth."

"You heard me say her name. You could have gotten it from  
there."

"Would I also know that she has a brother named Derek and a  
sister named Elisa?"

"Maybe."

He sighed. This was going to be more difficult than he  
thought. "Listen, Elisa and I are pretty good friends. She's a  
cop, she works for the 23rd Precinct like their dad used to before  
he transferred, and Derek did before he went to work for Xanatos.  
Derek's girlfriend is named Maggie, but I doubt you've met either  
of them yet."

Another long silence. "Okay. I can buy you know Elisa. So  
why are you lurking in shadows?"

"I don't like to be seen."

"Why not?" She took on a teasing tone, "You got a big nose or  
something?"

He crossed his eyes and stared at his beak. "Something like  
that. So can you please close your eyes or turn around so I can  
leave?"

"You still shouldn't be walking around these streets by  
yourself."

He swallowed his "I don't intend to be walking," substituted  
it with, "Neither should you."

"Then let's walk together."

"Ummmm. I really don't think that's a good idea."

"I'll turn around, if it will make you feel better."

"That would help." He waited another few seconds, then chanced  
another peek. Sure enough, she'd turned her back and was facing the  
darkened street. Cautiously, he stepped from the shadows and looked  
for a good placed to climb.

"What's your name, by the way?" She kept her back to him.

"Call me ... Brook." That would work.

"Sarah."

"Nice to meet you," he muttered inanely, not seeing a hand-hold  
near. Not good.

"Brook, have you ever been in love?"

He stopped looking, saw instead the moonlight streaming into  
the library. "Yeah."

"Did it work out?"

The Mazas would probably let him climb to the roof at their  
place, assuming he could get there and talk to them without this  
person seeing him. Why did he let himself get into these  
situations? "What?"

"Did it work out? Are the two of you still together?"

"No." He might be able to make do with a fence.

"What happened?"

He was about to snap at her, tell her he had more important  
things to do than worry about relationships. Then he remembered how  
he'd gotten out here in the first place. A bitter smile touched his  
beak and was gone.

"The first time I fell in love, she didn't love me back. I  
didn't want to see it at first. She fell in love with someone else  
after a while. Nothing I could do."

"What about the next time?"

"She still hasn't made up her mind."

She made an assenting sound. "Neither has mine." She made to  
almost turn around, then remembering, stayed as she was. "What do  
you do when you think you've found the most wonderful person in all  
the world, someone warm and funny, and passionate about everything,  
someone beautiful inside and out, someone talented, someone special?  
What do you do when your heart breaks every time you hear one voice  
on the phone, when your mind is on fire when you see one face?"

"You fall in love," he said simply. That was it, exactly.

She looked down. "And what do you do when you don't think that  
person loves you back? When you think you would die without her,  
but you know she would be fine without you, maybe even better off if  
you left her life completely?" He heard tears in her voice, held  
firmly back but present.

What _could_ he do? Did he put himself through the hell of  
watching her the same way every day, wrapping up his existence as  
simply an extension of hers? Dying with every word she spoke to  
Broadway or Lex, the way he had died in part when he'd first seen  
Maggie with Talon?

There was only one thing _to_ do.

"You let her go," he said to himself. "If she decides she  
loves you, she'll come back. If she doesn't ... " Pain, physical  
for all its having stemmed from his emotions, burned him. "If she  
doesn't come back, then at least you know for sure."

"Yeah," she said, reminding him he wasn't alone. "I should  
probably get back to the house. And you should be getting wherever  
you're going, too."

"I'll walk you home."

"All right."

They said nothing else as they walked. She kept her back to  
him during the short distance. When they reached the lit front  
stoop, she said, "Thanks, Brook."

"Thank _you_," he said.

"Now can I look at you?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

She shrugged. "Don't take this the wrong way, but Elisa has  
some very strange friends." She knocked on the door, and he slipped  
around the side.

He watched as Peter Maza answered the door and let her back in  
the house. He waited a few moments, then jumped onto the railing  
to the deck around back. Another leap took him to the roof, and  
from there, he had just enough altitude to get aloft.

VVVVV

The city was almost preternaturally quiet tonight. There was,  
as usual, the low muttering of automobiles along the streets, the  
sounds of humans bustling along the sidewalks and in their homes,  
the unexplainable but always present hum of electricity beneath it  
all. No screams called for attention, no glass shattered in the  
darkness, no footsteps dashed away from the scene of a crime. At  
the same time, there were also no noises of robbers being stopped  
in their tracks, muggers in the park brought down amid the near-  
silent flapping of dark wings. The other winged protectors of the  
city were as silent as the town itself tonight. Angela wasn't sure  
whether to be grateful or concerned.

It was time to head back towards the castle, check in with  
everyone, maybe catch a snack in front of the So Late It's Early  
Movie on Channel 13. With the boys.

She veered off her path.

Goliath had given the okay to go out into the city again. His  
reasoning was unspoken, but known to the rest of the clan as if he'd  
made an announcement. Sure, they needed to protect the city. Of  
course they needed to show the citizens how useful they could be.  
Yes, the crime rate had risen a bit in the short time since their  
sudden relocation to the Eyrie Building. Those were all valid  
excuses. The real reason he was letting them out to patrol so soon  
was that if they remained cooped up inside, cabin fever was going to  
become the Black Death of the 1990's.

The clocktower loomed before her. Carefully, she touched down,  
then took a long look at the place she had called home since her  
arrival in Manhattan.

Little had been cleared away; the ruins of their lives remained  
in charred piles of ash and soot at her feet. Was this what her  
parents had felt upon returning to the castle that awful night? All  
the gargoyles she knew were still alive and well; they had found  
only rubble bearing the grim faces of fallen friends. No wonder  
none of the others had come back here yet. This had been their home  
for two years, and to lose it so utterly, so quickly, and so much  
like the way the first devastating loss had come had to be a numbing  
blow.

It almost broke her heart to think of what the others were  
going through, had already survived. But they _had_ survived,  
despite every chance they would not. They'd lived and thrived  
because there had been no other options. Now they deserved a little  
happiness. Her father had Elisa, and it was about time, too.  
Hudson was content to relax when he could, fight when he needed to,  
and otherwise get down to the delightful business of spoiling  
Alexander, for lack of a better surrogate.

The Trio presented a different problem. She did care for the  
three of them. She enjoyed the time she spent with them, all  
together and teaming up for patrols or games. However, and this was  
a big however, she had no intention of becoming the prize in  
whatever invisible rivalry they'd set. After she'd yelled at them  
a few months back during that incident with Brod, they had behaved  
themselves. The forced isolation of the past nights had brought  
much of the competition back, unfortunately, though on a subtler  
scale than before. Instead of openly vying for time with her, they  
were spending time doing things she might like to do, so that if she  
chose to, say, be reading in the library, she'd already find  
Broadway there poring over a book.

The difference wasn't entirely on their behalf, either. She  
saw through their new game as easily as she'd seen through the old  
one. This time she was playing it, too.

For no reason, she'd say something out of the blue that she  
_knew_ would get a reaction from whichever of the young males she  
was near, then act as if she didn't know what she'd said. She  
couldn't say why she was doing it. Something inside of her pushed  
her insistently towards something she was not entirely certain she  
wanted, but was drawn to nonetheless.

It was nearing the time to take a mate.

She'd been avoiding the thought for so long, to hear it stated  
so clearly in her own mind shook her. She perched on the ruin of  
the stairway and pondered what to do about it.

Each of the three was wonderful in his own way. Lex was  
brilliant, and had an air of wonder always about him that she found  
endearing. On the other hand, although she had no doubts that he  
liked her, she was certain he was far more in love with his laptop  
than he would ever be with another living being.

Brooklyn, she knew, would always put her first, should she so ask  
him. He was smart, in a different way, brave as anyone she'd ever  
known, and steadied his impulsive nature with a level head. In other  
words, he was a perfect second in command. But he had also been in  
love with Maggie, and still might be, considering the way he tried not  
to look at her when they visited the Labyrinth. He was in love with  
being in love.

Then there was Broadway. He had the same kind of innocence Lex  
did, matched with the courage and steadiness that made Brooklyn a  
leader. He was more thoughtful than the others, but more joyful as  
well. Just before the craziness of the Hunter's Moon, there had  
been a lunar eclipse, and he'd watched it with all the enchantment  
of a hatchling. He wasn't what she'd considered handsome when she'd  
been on Avalon; his body was too round, his face too plain. Nothing  
at all like Gabriel, except in the ways that mattered most of all.

She loved Gabriel. She had always loved Gabriel, since they'd  
been children, maybe since they'd hatched. He had been there for  
her every night of her life, ever by her side, ready to take her  
hand while they glided, or dive head first into the sea to come up  
spraying salt water and laughing, always laughing. Yet he would  
never leave Avalon, and she could never really go back. Not after  
having tasted what the World offered. To do so would be to condemn  
herself to a slow death.

For a moment, she understood Puck.

She needed to go back home, but this _was_ home, wasn't it?

There was a noise behind her. She spun, damning herself for  
not having paid closer attention to the here and now rather than the  
past. She snarled! She would not be caught ...

"Whoa!" said Bluestone, tripping backwards in surprise.  
"Whatever I did, I apologize!"

Adrenaline still pushing her system to maximum, she clenched  
her fists, slowly gathering herself together.

"Sorry, Matt. You startled me."

"What are you doing here? It's not safe for you to stay around  
the old haunts right now."

"This isn't my old haunt!" she snapped. He folded his arms and  
raised an eyebrow. Shame hit her once more. "Sorry. Again."

"You're in a mood tonight. Care to talk about it?"

"No." How could she make him understand what was wrong, when  
she was having such trouble defining it for herself? "But thanks.  
I think I just needed a little time alone."

"Alone, or away from the Trio?"

"It's that obvious?"

He shrugged. "I'm a detective. It's my job to notice things."

"Mmm. So what are you noticing right now?"

He put on an investigative expression, looked her from head to toe  
and back again. "You're debating to yourself whether you'd like a  
computer geek, a cook, or your father's second in command as a  
boyfriend, and the cook is an early favorite."

She stared at him. "How did you know that?"

"Which part? Angela, you're the only non-psychotic female  
gargoyle in the city. If you're spending your nights away from the  
rest of the clan, it's probably because you're trying to figure out  
which one you want to spend all your nights with. Broadway fed you  
waffles this evening. Elisa told me once that you love waffles. If you  
let him make your favorite meal without objecting, he's got to be pretty  
high on the list."

She hesitated. "All right. But how did you know about the  
waffles?"

"You have a small spot of syrup on ... ummmm ... " He gestured.  
She looked down at her clothing.

"Oh." She brushed at it, realized it wasn't going to come off  
easily. She'd been around the Trio half the night; why hadn't one  
of them pointed it out?

"So am I right?"

She nodded. "I wish I knew how to handle this. Things were  
different on Avalon."

"You're not in Kansas anymore," he intoned. She stared at him  
blankly. "Never mind."

She looked at him, trying to see him again for the first time.  
"You're male."

"The last time I checked, yeah."

"How do you think I should handle the situation? I can't keep  
putting them off forever."

"Um .. Angela, I'm probably the wrong person to ask. I'm not  
even your species."

"I was raised by humans. My father is in love with a human."

"But the guys weren't and aren't. They have different ideas  
about what ... things mean."

She pleaded with him. "Who else do I have to ask? I can't talk  
with the three of them, not yet. Father gets flustered every time the  
subject comes up." She half-smiled. "Sometimes I wonder how my  
egg was ever laid." He said nothing but smiled in return. "Elisa has  
helped a lot, but she's just learning, too. I can't imagine asking Hudson,  
and that leaves who? Bronx? Xanatos? Owen?"

He sighed. "I wish I could help."

Her lingering half-smile faded. He was right. She was going  
to have to deal with this herself. "I understand." She changed the  
subject. "What are you doing up here, anyway? You didn't come up  
to listen to my love life." She thought about it, and added, "And  
aren't you and Elisa off tonight anyway?"

"Yep. I came in to get these." She noticed the manila folder  
in his hand for the first time. "Then I wanted to come up here for  
a few. Just because. If anyone asked, I came up to look for clues  
in the bombing."

"But the Hunters confessed to everything."

"Yeah but we still don't know where Jon Canmore went. The  
Captain has ordered us to find him, whatever it takes."

"Is that what you're working on?"

"Not tonight." He patted the file. "I have most of these at home,  
but I wanted to look at this one. It's a personal investigation."

"On what?" Her curiosity was piqued. Besides, she would do  
almost anything to keep from having to go back to the castle yet.

"Well ... " He looked uncomfortable.

"I won't laugh," she promised solemnly.

"Last year, before I met the clan, I worked on a homicide  
investigation. Unofficially. The guy had been ripped apart. It was  
grisly, but it reminded me of another case I'd come across in the back  
files. I did a little digging, and found a pattern of serial murders  
stemming from the 1970's. I didn't know what to make of it, so I put  
together the pieces I did have."

"You thought it was the clan."

He nodded. "I thought it was the clan, working for the Illuminati. I  
even brought in an old friend of mine from the Bureau to help, but he  
and his partner dropped the case a few days later. He never gave me a  
reason why. Then I met the clan, and I knew it wasn't them. I shelved  
the investigation, but sometimes I bring it back out when something  
new turns up."

"So what ... ? The Hunters. And my mother."

He shrugged again. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but  
Demona's more than psycho enough to do it, and she's been around a  
lot longer than the rest of the clan."

"How many murders have there been?"

"Fifty-four. I reopened my files in July when we found another  
body."

July. Two months. "My mother was imprisoned two months ago.  
We had her locked up so she couldn't hurt anyone."

"You're certain?"

"Positive." Part of her still ached at the memory of her mother's  
betrayal.

"Damn. There goes that theory."

"What else do you have? Maybe I could help find your killer."

"Thanks. Don't take this the wrong way, but I doubt it.  
Whoever he is, he's eluded us this long."

"Please?"

He sighed. "All right. Let me show you this file."

He pulled out his flashlight, illuminating the ruins of the  
clocktower. He spread the file on the remains of what had once been  
the television set, and pulled out a black and white photograph.

"Meet Eric Schnelton. Or what's left of him, anyway." She  
swallowed deeply and listened. "Don't feel too sorry for him. We  
have him linked to two murders of his own, both teenaged girls. The  
investigating officers wrote this one off. Hell, vigilante justice may be  
ten shades of illegal, but when it hits scum like this, most of us aren't  
going to go out of our way to hunt down the killer. We have too many  
other people preying on innocent citizens to spend resources on  
catching people who are helping us."

"Too bad that doesn't extend to gargoyles. Especially since we  
haven't killed any of your kind."

"Elisa and I are working on that."

"I know. Go on."

He turned back to the picture. "See the facial wounds?" She  
nodded. "That suggests it was personal. Typically, murders  
involving facial wounds have female victims. The murderer punishes  
them by stealing their beauty. Since the victim was male, it could  
mean his attacker was trying to make him suffer for killing those girls.  
The rest of his wounds," he pointed to a particularly gruesome area on  
what had probably been the man's torso, "look like they were made by  
parallel knives, maybe even claws. Which was why I thought Goliath  
might have done it. Long before I met him," he added quickly.

"If it was done by a knife or knives, it was _very_ personal.  
Shooting him would have been easier. To use a knife, you have to  
be right there, in intimate contact with the victim. If the killer  
didn't know Schnelton, he _had_ to have known the teenagers."

"Can't you find him from that?"

"No. Their families and friends are clear. Besides, from what  
I can tell, they had no contact with anyone who might have known the  
other fifty-three victims. For a while in the 80's there was a pattern  
around someone in the D.A.'s office, but she was murdered, not by this  
guy, and her murderer was gunned down in the investigation. I don't  
have a photo with me, but _he_ had facial wounds like these.

"I've been trying to see if I can form some kind of psychological  
profile of the killer from the patterns of the various murders. So far, all  
I can tell you is that he's not a typical serial killer. Normally, a serial  
killer has no regard for human life, and doesn't see his victims as  
people. He has no remorse, because he isn't really hurting anyone who  
matters in his mind. This guy _does_ care. He only kills criminals who  
prey on the weak. I think he might even have killed the last D.A.."

He closed the file.

She thought about it. "It can't be my mother. And it's not  
Thailog. It's not the clan." She sighed. "I wish I could be more  
helpful."

He smiled. "But then again, if you were I'd be out of a job."  
He yawned. "I think I'm going to head home. I want to look over  
these a few times, and then I might actually get more than an hour's  
sleep."

"I should get back to the castle anyway. Do you want a lift  
home?"

"I brought my car, but thanks." She nodded. "Be safe."

"You, too." She walked back out to the balcony, and with a  
wave, jumped off the ledge, catching the breeze in her wings.

She landed at the top of the highest tower of the castle and  
paused, steeling herself to what awaited. Then, she walked down the  
stairs, slowly, wondering which of the boys she would encounter  
first, and what she should say. Should she be friendly? Coy?  
Casual? Ignore them? Perhaps she would simply ...

She nearly plowed into Brooklyn. He'd been sitting in the  
middle of the darkened stairway; she hadn't even seen him until she  
was practically stepping on him.

"Hi, Brooklyn." His head shot up, brought back to reality from  
whatever musing had been entertaining him.

"Oh, hi Angela." His voice was friendly, but she couldn't help  
noticing something else to it, something sad.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No. Just thinking."

"About what?" _You're doing it again,_ her conscience told her.  
_You're playing. That's not very nice._

"Nothing much." His eyes remained cloudy for a moment longer,  
then, like he'd taken off a party mask, or perhaps put one on for  
the evening, his entire aspect changed while she watched. There was  
not a hint of flirtatiousness, nor of the longing she associated  
with him, as he said, "Pondering the nature of the universe is all.  
Would you tell me about Avalon? You said you had fifteen rookery  
sisters." He smiled a rogue's grin, and for once, it wasn't  
directed at her.

"Yes I did." She smiled back. "I think you'd like some of  
them, too." So he'd changed his mind, finally, after months of  
being told she wasn't interested in any of them. Well, that did  
make her problem a lot simpler.

"Let's go downstairs. I can tell everyone that way." That would be  
the test. If he was still interested in her, there would be a  
disappointment to her suggestion, however slight. She saw none. He'd  
gotten over her. She felt nothing but happiness for him.

"Let's. Lex won't be around, but I bet Broadway and Hudson  
would like to hear."

She knew her father had mentioned going to Elisa's later  
tonight, but Lex was planning on staying in. "Where's Lexington  
gone?"

Brooklyn snorted. "According to Hudson, after we went out on  
patrol, Xanatos offered Lex and Broadway jobs."

"You must be joking."

"Nope. Broadway's going to be the night cook, when he's not  
on patrol. Lex is down on the forty-seventh floor. The dragon only  
knows what Xanatos wants him to do there."

"Something with computers, probably. I don't like it. I can  
accept his allowing us to live here, but offering us jobs?"

"Yeah. I know. I think Lex does, too. It won't be as big a  
deal for Broadway. He'd be in the kitchen anyway."

She smiled unintentionally, thinking of her friend surrounded  
by his pots and pans, a book sitting on the counter to read while  
he waited for something to come to a boil. The image was charming.  
"He probably would."

They reached the living room, where Hudson was already parked  
in his favorite easy chair, his great fingers slowly turning the  
delicate pages of a paperback novel. "Lass, lad," he said amiably,  
not looking up from his book. "Anythin' interesting in the city  
tonight?"

"Quiet as death," she said. The television was on, set to CNN,  
but the volume was muted. The newsperson moved her lips and cut to  
pictures of an older human male. Oh yes, he was running for  
President. Elisa had tried to explain the process to her: every  
four years, her people chose a new leader, a king, who could be  
elected again but only once. It seemed like a short time to Angela,  
until she recalled Princess Katharine's tales of the turbulence  
surrounding the Scottish throne. Given that, eight years was a  
pretty long reign for a king.

Brooklyn nudged her. "Avalon."

"Right." They sat on the floor, and she began telling him  
about her rookery siblings, especially her sisters. Broadway came  
in a few minutes later, and sat with them, listening.

She wasn't certain how long she'd been talking, when she felt  
rather than saw she was being watched by another. She didn't stop  
her story, this one about getting lost in the great forest with  
Ophelia and Hippolyta, but turned her head just so. Owen was in the  
doorway, out of the light cast by Hudson's reading lamp, listening  
as raptly as the boys were.

Stories of home, she thought. This is one thing that binds us,  
the longing for what we once knew. The place of her childhood had  
also been the place of his, presuming he'd had one, and while  
Broadway and Brooklyn had been raised within and above these same  
walls, they too pined for the familiar, in their case the names of  
the good people who'd raised her clutch.

Something teased at her, a new thought undefined. Last night,  
she'd noticed a very peculiar reaction when she'd been talking about  
her parents. Making sure her audience was still listening well, she  
said, "The arrow went high enough to be seen for miles away. The  
Guardian saw it," check, no effect, "and tracked us down. I don't  
know whether he was more angry at us for having gone off, or  
relieved at finding us safe."

"If ye'd tried that at Wyvern, we woulda tanned yer backsides  
for it."

"We know," said Brooklyn and Broadway together. Angela  
laughed; she hadn't heard many of their earlier exploits, but she  
had heard enough.

"We went back to the palace. Princess Katharine fussed over  
the three of us," check, nope, "to make sure we hadn't hurt  
ourselves, then scolded us for making them worry so terribly."

"So how much trouble did you get into?"

"Not as much as we should have. The three of us weren't  
allowed to go out of the palace grounds for a month. The Guardian  
suggested we also be sent to roost without supper, but the Magus  
said we were still growing, and that we'd learned our lessons well  
enough." Check. Bingo. Her observation was reinforced by the  
sudden emptiness of the place Owen had been standing.

Angela now had the pieces to a very intriguing puzzle. She wasn't  
sure what the final picture would be, but that's what made it fun. She  
glanced at her friends, wondering whom to trust with it, if either.  
Brooklyn would write it off as yet another reason not to trust the  
humans and fays in the castle, and think no more about it. Lex wouldn't  
be interested; if she could define her observations in terms of variables  
rather than emotions, maybe, but otherwise, it wasn't his cuppa.  
Broadway, on the other hand, loved mysteries. Figuring out why  
certain things she said made Owen distraught, while not perhaps as  
fascinating as cracking a seventy-year-old theft, would still be more up  
his alley than his brothers'. She sent a smile his way, and did not notice  
the well-disguised pain flickering across Brooklyn's face, and leaving  
like it had never been.

Goliath came in, saw them sitting on the floor. "Where's  
Lexington?"

"Here." Lex slipped neatly under Goliath's wing and parked  
himself on the floor near them. "You're not gonna _believe_ this."

"Xanatos offered you a job," said Angela.

"What!" asked her father.

Lex shot a look at Hudson. "You told." Hudson shrugged and  
set down his book.

"A job?" asked Goliath.

"Yeah. He wants me to work with a research group down on 47.  
Their last programmer moved to Oregon, and Xanatos thinks I can take  
his place."

"It's all on the level, I assure you," said the familiar voice  
as Xanatos came to the doorway and rested against it comfortably.

"We've heard that before." Brooklyn.

"Research," said Goliath, sounding displeased with the word.  
Angela could sympathize. It reminded her of her stay with Sevarius  
at Loch Ness. She shuddered.

"It's okay," said Lex. "They won't be testing on me. I'll just be  
writing some code for them."

"Surely ye have other hirelings to do this 'code' for ye."

"Certainly I do, and frankly, many of them are better at it than  
Lexington is." Lex frowned. "However, this particular group has never  
been chosen entirely on what they know. Programming languages can  
be learned. Fresh ideas are something else entirely. The people in this  
group have been hand-picked from my various companies for their  
ability to research creatively. I already have people who can design  
engines based on current models. I want people who can look at a bat  
and design an entirely new kind of airplane. They make their own  
hours, and," he added with a smirk, "they have little enough contact  
with the outside world that when I introduced Lexington to some of  
them this evening, they thought he was a Vulcan."

"It looks like a really cool place," said Lex, more than a  
little excitement in his voice. "And the project I'll be working  
on sounds like a breeze."

"He'll of course be paid well for his time. Owen's already set  
up a Social Security number for him. Think of it this way. The  
public fears gargoyles on a variety of levels. Perhaps they'll  
accept you a little more when you become tax-paying citizens."

Goliath still looked unsure, while Lex tried to stay calm. She  
could see his eagerness, camouflaged as it was. Unless Goliath said  
a definite no, he'd probably take it. Goliath didn't look like he was  
about to say no.

Goliath ... was supposed to be at Elisa's tonight. Maybe he'd go  
later, she thought. It was nearing dawn; he'd have to be going soon if  
he was. She forgot the thought completely as Broadway opened his  
mouth and announced his own employment opportunity, and the  
discussion turned to other things.

VVVVV

He wasn't going to come. Elisa watched the growing light on the  
horizon with an ache she could not express. He had said he would  
come, spend the day at her place so he could be there when Derek and  
Maggie dropped by.

It was her own damned fault.

Why hadn't she been able to say anything? The moment had come,  
the one she'd been dreaming of for ages, truth be told. And she'd  
frozen, then brushed it off like just another line.

_I gotta go? Sheesh. Brilliant one there, Maza, real smooth.  
For your next trick, you can tell him you're going to wash your  
hair._

He'd scared her, really scared her. She'd been all safe and  
warm and fuzzy with this new relationship, and then he'd changed the  
rules. No one had told her he could do that. It wasn't fair. If  
he were going to say he loved her, he ought to have given her fair  
warning, let her prepare something.

Prepare something? Now she was sounding like some high  
schooler on the debate team. _The opposition has claimed love, Ms.  
Maza. What is your rebuttal? I'd like to take this opportunity to  
say ... What?_

She mouthed the words, couldn't put sound to them.

She'd spent a few hours in the Labyrinth this evening, first talking  
with Maggie, convincing her to talk to her parents. Afterwards, she'd  
played with the clones. They had liked the toys, which made her  
happier than she would let on. Funny, now that the clan was back at  
Wyvern, she had no more reason to buy them things, so she would buy  
them for their clones instead. That was different, though. They were,  
as Maggie said, kids in grownup bodies. It was easy to want to spoil  
them.

Wasn't there a little more, though? C'mon, Maza, admit it. You  
know you'll have to sooner or later.

Delilah. Her ... daughter? Sister? Hell, competition? The  
clone wore her face, spoke with her voice, even had her taste in  
clothing. Sorta. At the same time, she had wings, and a tail, and  
was visibly in a thousand ways not human. Elisa didn't know what to  
do about her. She regretted having pushed Goliath into thinking of  
Thailog as his son; did she dare even consider Delilah to be her own  
child? If so, she ought to spend more time with her, maybe teach  
her a few things. But Maggie and Derek had been the primary  
care givers for the kids, and her assistance might not be taken the  
right way. So she should stay away.

And lose the only child she could have.

She had considered the thought thoroughly, and had come to the  
conclusion that she didn't need a baby to feel fulfilled in her life. She  
had her friends, she had her career, she had someone who said he loved  
her, and hell, if she wanted to get technical, she had Angela as well.  
She was fully prepared to spoil Derek's and Beth's children, and then  
enjoy the ultimate luxury of the childless: giving them back. Goliath  
had said more than once that all the clan's children belonged to the  
whole clan, so theoretically, if there were any eggs, they would be hers,  
too. Given all this, she felt no overwhelming need to add to the world's  
population.

At the same time, her DNA had already been pulled from her  
body, merged with Demona's, and been given life in the form of a  
very confused clone. The child was already there, even if she  
looked like an adult. The next question became, what to do about  
her? Try to be a mother? Try to be a friend? Try to get custody  
before Demona got any bright ideas?

She heard wings.

He landed on the roof, a few feet away. He'd cut it close,  
almost too close. The sun would be up in minutes.

"I was worried about you."

"I was detained at the castle. Xanatos has offered Lexington  
and Broadway jobs."

She nodded, not really understanding, but noting it was too  
close to sunup to debate the issue.

"I'm glad you came," she said. His face lit. She steeled  
herself, opened her mouth, and again, the wrong thing came out: "I  
guess you'll stay up here today, huh?"

"I suppose I will." Disappointment covered him like a shroud,  
making her long to take it away.

"Goliath, I ... " The sun peeked over the edge of the sky,  
freezing him in a less-than frightening pose. "I'm sorry," she  
said, and with a brush of her hand against his solid face, she went  
inside to bed.

VVVVV

At exactly eight pm, there was a knock at her door. They were  
nothing if not prompt. Elisa shooed Maggie and Derek into her  
bedroom, and motioned for her father to stop pacing. Then, ignoring  
her own nervous pulse, she walked calmly to the door and peeked  
through the peephole. Sure enough, the Reeds waited outside. She  
unlocked the door, took a quick breath, and opened it.

"I'm glad you could come."

"It's about our daughter. Of course we came." Mr. Reed's face  
and voice were stern, but Elisa made herself believe that there was  
some hint of worry to it.

"Please come inside." When Mrs. Reed caught sight of her  
parents waiting in the living room, she shrank a little against her  
husband. "Mr. and Mrs. Reed, I'd like you to meet my family. These  
are my parents, Peter and Diane Maza, and this is my sister, Beth."  
Mom and Dad wore careful smiles, Beth a larger one. "Everyone,  
these are James and Elinor Reed."

"Hello," said Mrs. Reed in a tiny voice.

"Detective Maza, you said you had information about Maggie."  
Any imagined warmth was gone from his tone. His eyes were flat,  
guarded, and he'd taken an aggressive stance. Elisa's heart sank. She  
wasn't afraid; she was fairly sure she could take him in a fight, and if  
she couldn't, Derek or Goliath, who was sitting quietly outside on the  
balcony, certainly could.

"I do. I know where she is."

Mrs. Reed's head shot up, and her face filled with light, hope,  
fear. "Oh my god. Is she all right?"

"Where is she!"

There was a rustle from the bedroom. "Close your eyes.  
Please."

"No." Mrs. Reed's eyes were already shut. Mr. Reed stared  
resolutely at her.

"It'll be easier if you do."

"No," he repeated.

"Jimmy, please." He looked over at her. To Elisa, she looked  
like a kid on Christmas morning, waiting for the best present to be  
opened. He gave a warning look to Dad, then closed his own eyes.

Maggie moved like a wraith from the bedroom, Derek a few steps  
behind her. He paused to stand between Mom and Dad, while she came  
to the step by the door.

"Open your eyes slowly," said Elisa.

"Mom?" said Maggie. Against orders, both sets of eyes snapped  
open. Mrs. Reed saw her daughter, and her mouth fell wide. She  
began to make gasping noises. Mr. Reed whirled to Elisa.

"What is the meaning of this!"

"Dad, it's me."

Mrs. Reed breathed, "Maggie?" Maggie nodded. She held her  
hands out, and her mother stared down at the sharp claws. Then she  
placed her own in them, feeling around the pads, and finally, she  
raised her eyes to her daughter's. "What happened?"

"Remember that dream job I had with Gen-U-Tech? A few things  
weren't in the job description." Mr. Reed stared at her, not speaking. "I  
wasn't the only one changed. We were all fooled, first into joining,  
then into thinking they would change us back." She gestured over to  
Derek. Hesitantly, he moved to stand beside her. Mrs. Reed took a  
step back, probably in fear; Mr. Reed maintained his silent appraisal.

"This is Derek Maza, Elisa's brother." He bowed at the neck,  
which unfortunately also gave a superb view of the corded muscles  
there. This did not help Elinor Reed's presence of mind. "He was  
changed shortly after I was. There are two others like us, but we  
figured two would be enough for you to see tonight." Besides, Elisa  
added to herself, one was incarcerated, and the other was clone-  
sitting.

"It's good to finally meet you," said Derek. He held out a  
large paw to Mr. Reed, who looked as if it were diseased. Maybe he  
thought it was. After a second, Derek pulled the hand reluctantly  
back and drummed his fingers nervously against his leg.

Elisa chimed in, "We don't we all move into the living room and  
get acquainted?"

Maggie sat down on the couch with her mother, while Elisa and  
Beth grabbed the stools from the bar. Derek stayed near enough to  
Maggie to make his presence felt, but far enough away to not  
intimidate her parents as much. Maggie's father remained standing  
behind the couch. Mom took the chair, Beth the floor, leaving the  
stools for her and Dad. She perched on the edge of her seat,  
angling just enough to glance out the window now and then.

She remembered suddenly that this was _her_ apartment, and that  
she, by rights, was the hostess. "Would anyone like something to  
drink? I've got lemonade, soda, and I can put on the kettle for tea  
or coffee." Beth sprang up to help her in the kitchen, leaving the  
parents and the couple to their own devices for a few minutes.

Maggie began telling her mother an edited version of what had  
happened, not mentioning that she'd been homeless when Sevarius had  
approached her, and keeping all references to the gargoyles out of  
it. She must have been planning this for a while, because the story  
was flawless. Elisa remembered Elinor Reed mentioning that her  
daughter wanted to be an actress.

She and Beth silently handed out the drinks to everyone as  
Maggie related how they'd finally discovered it had been Xanatos who  
had tricked them, and not Elisa. There was a large amount of  
bitterness towards the man expressed in her few words. Elisa had  
felt the same way, but was now in the uncomfortable position of  
having to be grateful to him. She sipped her coffee, and smiled as  
Cagney jumped into her mother's lap.

"Since then," Maggie said, "we've been living in some abandoned  
tunnels beneath the city. They're warm, and they're safe for the  
people who come down there to live. It's not paradise. We've had  
a few problems. Fang got power-hungry and tried to take over, and  
if it hadn't been for our friends, he would have succeeded. But  
now, things have settled down to a dull roar. Derek and I have been  
teaching some children how to read, and that's been a full-time  
job." Derek rested his hand against her shoulder and squeezed,  
eliciting a smile from her.

"They're a handful," he said, "but they're good kids. They  
just need a little guidance now and then."

"That reminds me," she replied. "We need to have another talk  
with Brent about not taking things apart that he can't put back  
together."

Derek sighed. "The radio?"

"Good guess."

Mr. Reed, whose only word in the past ten minutes had been  
"No," cleared his throat. "How do we change you back?"

"I really don't know," said Maggie. "Sevarius is more slippery  
than soap on oil, and I refuse to trust Xanatos ever again." She  
looked at Elisa, who could only watch back.

He muttered, "There's no way we're going to get you on a plane  
like this. We're going to have to rent a car."

"What do you mean?" asked Maggie.

"When we take you home."

She looked at him, disbelief in her eyes. "Dad, this is my home."  
She placed a hand atop Derek's, which made Mr. Reed's frown deeper.

"You live in a sewer and you call it home?"

"It's not a sewer. It used to be a research facility for one of the big  
companies in town." So it did, Elisa remembered suddenly. She  
wondered if Renard would be interested in cracking this particular  
problem. Then she thought about Preston Vogel, and reconsidered.  
She didn't completely trust Renard, but at least he had principles. The  
same applied to Xanatos and Fox, and even Owen, though to whom  
_he_ owed ultimate allegiance was anyone's guess. Vogel, on the other  
hand, was the closest thing she'd ever met to someone without a soul.  
Oh, he had a conscience, and loyalty when he chose, but without the  
inconvenience of any emotional attachment to either. He would really  
be in charge of the project, if there was one, and there was no way she  
would let him within a mile of the Mutates. Not even Fang.

"That's not the point, and you know it. You've had your fun  
in the city, and look what it cost you. It's time to come back  
home."

"I'm not going," she said. "My place is here. I'm _needed_  
here, for the kids and my friends. Besides, if there's ever going  
to be a cure, it'll be found in New York, not Cuyahoga Falls." She  
glanced over. "And maybe most importantly, I'm not going to go  
anywhere without Derek, and I know he's staying. So I'm staying."

"I see," said Mr. Reed. Mrs. Reed settled apprehensively back  
into the couch, her eyes now on Derek. She wasn't the only one;  
this was the moment.

"That's why we're here tonight," said Dad. "When we found out  
about Derek, it was a shock, but it was easier knowing that he  
wasn't facing this alone."

Mom continued. "Since then, Maggie's been like another daughter  
to us. It's not a perfect arrangement, and won't be until they're cured.  
At least for now, they're happy. That's what matters." Mom looked at  
Derek and Maggie with affection, and offered a glance to Elisa. Then  
she nodded her head, answering the unspoken question between them.  
Elisa felt a part of herself unclench that she hadn't even realized was  
bundled with nerves. In that one glance, Mom had spoken volumes, not  
only about Maggie, but also about Goliath.

Derek said, "In a funny way, this may have been the best thing  
that ever happened to me. If I hadn't undergone the change, I never  
would have met Maggie, and my life would have been unbelievably  
poorer." She smiled up at him. Mrs. Reed shuddered.

"That's very sweet," said Mr. Reed with blistering sarcasm. "I can't  
describe how glad I am that my daughter was turned into a freak so you  
could be happy."

The temperature in the room dropped a good fifteen degrees.

Dad was the first to speak. "There's no need to treat either of the  
kids that way. They couldn't prevent their transformation, and they're  
doing their best to live with it."

Mr. Reed turned to him slowly, deliberately. "Forgive me if I  
don't share your enthusiasm. What would you say if _your_ daughter  
disappeared for months on end, only to show up out of the blue and  
announce she was in love with a six-foot tall winged monster!"

Beth choked on an ill-timed sip of lemonade, and as Elisa  
thwapped her on the back, she thought her father had actually handled it  
pretty well; Mom had been the one to throw a fit. Derek's eyes, shining  
with tears of stifled laughter, were on Dad, and when Beth could  
breathe again, the two of them also fixed him with expectant gazes.  
Elisa knew Derek wouldn't say a word, but she prayed Beth had enough  
sense to keep quiet.

Their father looked from Mr. Reed to each of his children in  
turn, his sight finally resting on Elisa. "I'm going to be held  
later to whatever I say now, aren't I?" Three nods. Mom sat back  
in her own chair, waiting. "I would tell her that I was happy for  
her, and that I was glad she'd finally found someone special, and  
that I will love her no matter whom she loves."

Elisa made herself _not_ look at the window. Looking at the  
window would be bad. Looking at the window might push her father  
just a little too far under the circumstances. Instead she remained  
outwardly very calm, her face not betraying how her heart flew at  
his words.

Beth looked up from her seat, her own eyes alight, letting her  
sister know she wasn't the only one who'd been awaiting approval.  
Elisa was beginning to understand a great many things.

The same couldn't be said for Mr. Reed. He folded his arms.  
"Well, isn't that enlightened?"

Dad was beginning to lose his patience. Elisa hadn't seen him  
really go off since she'd been very young, even before Beth had been  
born. They'd lived in an apartment then. Most of the people living  
in their building had been nice, at least to her small eyes, but  
some hadn't.

She remembered seeing spray paint on the door early one morning.  
She hadn't been old enough to read, hadn't any idea what had been on  
their door, but she _had_ been old enough to remember how angry her  
father had been, and she could still recall how dark his face was  
when he'd thrown the teenaged boys responsible against a wall of the  
building. He hadn't been a cop then, just a security guard. It  
wasn't until afterwards that he began talking about doing something  
more, started studying for the academy. That day, he had merely  
been a man protecting his family, and she'd gotten scared enough to  
start crying around him for nearly a year after the incident.

He hadn't grown that angry since, at least in front of her or  
her siblings. She'd hoped never to see it again. _Coyote,_ she  
thought to him, _you are part of Coyote. He can't touch you as long  
as you remember that._

She watched him clench and release his fists, saw the tension  
pass out of him as he did.

"Mr. Reed," he said quietly. "I realize this is hard for you to  
accept. It was equally difficult for us when Derek finally told us, after  
having been gone for so long. But we got past it. He's our son, and  
Maggie is your daughter. They've decided to make the best of what  
they have, and they've decided to do it together. We don't have to like  
what's been done. Hell, it keeps me awake at night, wondering what's  
going to become of them, of the rest of us through them."

"Then why don't you do something about it? You said this  
Xanatos fellow was behind it? Demand he do something, and if he  
doesn't, we'll sue him."

Uh oh. Now there was an option she really didn't want Derek  
considering. While it would feel good to finally get Xanatos back  
for the past two and a half years, she couldn't afford it. The  
gargoyles had nowhere else to go, and if her family pushed him  
enough, she would find herself in a very uncomfortable middle  
ground.

And maybe Dad knew that. "We can't. The kids don't trust him  
enough to find a cure, and if we bring them into a spotlight, they're  
going to get burned badly."

"So you don't have hope for a cure." He turned to Maggie. "Then  
you have no reason to stay in New York. You're coming home."

"We went over this already, Dad. I'm staying here."

"Margaret ... "

"Maggie, please do as your father says." Her mother's voice was  
pleading. The peacemaker, thought Elisa. She's the one to smooth over  
things so that they don't have to look at them. They really should meet  
the Xanatos family. They could compare dysfunctionalities.

"No, Mom. I'm staying here. With Derek."

"You heard her, Elinor. She wants to stay here. She prefers  
the company of freaks. She always has. Fine."

He grabbed his wife's arm, more strongly than was necessary,  
and pulled her to her feet. "We're leaving. Maggie, if you aren't  
with us by the time we reach the door, you can forget ever hearing  
from us again." He shook his free hand at her. "You don't call,  
you don't write. As far as we're concerned, you will have dropped  
off the earth. If you'd rather associate with these people ..."  
Mr. Reed imbued the word "people" with a kind of distastefulness  
Elisa typically reserved for murderers, child molesters and  
telemarketers. " ... you don't need to bother looking us up."

Maggie stood. Mr. Reed smiled thinly. Then she said, "Don't  
let the door hit you on your way out."

He lost his smile. He turned away from her towards the door.  
"Margaret, I'm giving you one last chance. Come home now."

"Get out."

Without another word, he walked out the door. Mrs. Reed paused  
a moment, looking back at her daughter beseechingly. "Maggie ... "

"Goodbye, Mom."

The woman nodded, dropping her eyes from her daughter's, and  
followed her husband out the door, closing it gently behind her.

Maggie watched them go, then carefully sat down on the couch  
again, trembling. Derek slipped his hands to her shoulders, and  
when he found no resistance, the rest of the way around her. For  
several long moments, he held her like that.

"Maggie," said Mom in a quiet voice, "you will always be  
welcome in our family. You are our daughter, too."

Maggie raised her head, and offered a smile to her, brighter  
than Elisa could have thought she'd be able to right now.

"I know," she said, and she turned to Derek as she repeated,  
"I know."

"Does that extend to all the in-laws?"

"Beth ... " Elisa warned.

Beth folded her arms expectantly. Her mother looked at her in  
puzzlement. "Why wouldn't it?"

"No reason," she said. "No reason at all." Before Elisa could  
ask, she got up and sat on the couch next to Maggie.

VVVVV

A key turned in the lock. Sarah remained in her seat on the  
couch, but tensed to stand if she needed. Since the rest of the  
family had left, she'd alternated between reading over her  
International Studies text and pacing the floor like a caged  
panther.

It was family business. It involved Derek, whom she still  
hadn't met. She couldn't ask to go with them, with Beth. There  
were secrets here, abounding, and the pieces she had simply didn't  
fit together. Beth didn't trust her with the information she needed  
to solve the puzzle, and she wasn't going to tell her parents what  
they needed to know about her.

Love was supposed to be about trust, wasn't it? Trust and  
commitment and letting the other one inside when you were hurting,  
that was what she'd thought.

Maybe Brook had been right about letting go.

The door opened after a few seconds. Peter and Diane came  
through first, both pairs of eyes searching for then locking onto  
her. Beth came in afterwards, radiating nervous energy.

She'd told.

Sarah stood up and prepared for the worst.

"Hello, Sarah," said Beth's mother. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Yeah. I fixed a salad."

"Good." Her tone was strained. This was not going to be  
pretty.

"Sarah," said Beth's father, "Beth told us about you on the way  
home."

"We were a little surprised," said Beth's mother. "You're not  
quite what we expected."

"I can imagine," she said quietly. At least they would be  
polite when they kicked her out.

"This is going to sound odd, but we have a few questions for  
you," said Beth's father.

_Here it comes._

Beth's mother asked, "You don't have a pair of wings hidden  
under your sweater, do you?"

"Ummmm ... No." She looked at Beth in horrible confusion.  
What the hell?

"It's all right," said Beth. "Just answer them truthfully."

"Right."

Beth's father asked, "At the full moon, do you get a craving  
for red meat and start howling?"

"Ew, and no."

Beth's mother asked, "We've seen you awake during the day, but  
do you have an aversion to sunlight or garlic?"

"No."

"Do crosses make you blanch in fear?"

"I'm a Buddhist. No."

"Do you have a secret identity?"

"No."

"Can you shoot electricity from your hands?"

"No."

"Does the name Sevarius mean anything to you?"

"No."

"What about Oberon?"

"That's the guy from 'Midsummer,' right?"

"Are you allergic to iron?"

"Beth ... " This was getting weird.

"She's not allergic to iron, or garlic. She won't transform  
into anything. She doesn't have any extra DNA floating around in  
her system. She's a perfectly normal human being."

Beth's parents looked at one another.

"Human," said Beth's mother.

"We can introduce her to your relatives," said Beth's father.

"Family reunions!" said Beth's mother, clapping her hands  
together.

"We can introduce the _grandkids_ to your relatives," responded  
Beth's father.

As one, they turned to her, wide smiles on both faces.

"Welcome to the family," said Beth's mother, drawing her into  
a hug. When she finally let go, Beth's father took her hand into  
both of his and shook it heartily.

When the parents released her, Beth gave her a long hug.

"One of these days, you're going to explain what all that was  
about, right?"

"One of these days."

VVVVV

Elisa and Goliath sat on the roof of her apartment, watching  
the sky. She lived too near the street to see any stars usually,  
and even if she could, it was getting cloudy. Stormy weather, she  
thought, inside and out.

Once Maggie had recovered from her case of the shakes, she'd  
been okay. She wasn't as upset by the idea of her parents' leaving  
her as Elisa would have been. She had already let go. Elisa felt  
horribly guilty at having made her go through the ordeal tonight;  
she had pushed her into it, and now Maggie's parents were gone for  
good, without finding out they were going to be grandparents in less  
than a year.

Hopefully.

Her own parents had taken the news the same way she had,  
excited on the inside, mindful of Maggie and Derek's feelings  
outwardly. She knew they had become aware lately that the  
possibility of grandchildren was getting more remote by the day,  
even more so if what she thought she'd seen in Beth's eyes was the  
truth. The notion that perhaps they might beat fate just this once,  
with a child who would be special no matter what his or her species  
turned out to be, had to be impossibly attractive to them.

Derek had already come up with a few names, and had shared  
them. Elisa had suggested Charles, as their way of saying "Up  
yours, Darwin." Beth suggested Esmeralda. Dad liked Lia. Mom  
hadn't said anything, but they knew she'd prefer Darren, after her  
own father. Maggie said they would wait until after the baby was  
born, and that ended the discussion.

A midwife lived in the Labyrinth, Ruth. Maggie was going to  
spend what free time she had with her, seeing what could be done to  
make the next several months bearable. No one suggested what had  
to be on everyone's mind, that Maggie really needed to be under the  
care of the best doctors in the city. Natural birthing methods were  
great for humans, but for the time being, Maggie was not human, and  
her child possibly less so. The more high-tech her care was, the  
more likely both would survive. The only way to even consider that  
would be to approach Xanatos, and that Derek would not do as long as  
he lived.

Despite all this, despite the double-edged joy, even despite  
the fact that Maggie had just lost her last ties to her life before  
her change, Elisa could not remember a time when she'd seen her  
brother's girlfriend so happy, and her own family happy with her.

Their world was moving onwards, with the same inexorable march  
that marked the lives of every other family that had ever gathered  
in a living room, or around a fire. Her parents had accepted their  
children for who they were, and with them, the ones their children  
had come to love. Elisa felt a sudden pity for the Reeds. They  
would never know what their grandchild would be like, never be able  
to take joy from seeing their daughter in love. By denying Maggie,  
they had denied themselves the kind of vicarious happiness that came  
from knowing someone beloved to them was herself happy, for better  
or worse.

She turned her head. Goliath rested his own head on the  
brickwork of the wall, his eyes closed. He wasn't asleep,  
naturally, just resting, content to be with her, no matter what he  
must think about what surely seemed her refusal of him. She studied  
him in the dim light from her apartment. There had been times  
during their long voyage that she'd considered his countenance as  
he'd slept, finding him stately, noble. When he'd rested during the  
day, it had been as a god in quiet contemplation. He was beautiful,  
beyond her capacity for expression. She had tried to frame the  
words once, so that he would understand what he was to her, how even  
his imperfections made him more wonderful in her eyes. She'd  
failed, miserably, had stopped before she'd said something dumb,  
then wished she'd been able to say it anyway.

But really, couldn't she wrap everything up into one phrase?

"I love you, too."

He stiffened against her, his eyes opening. Then she saw an  
ache in them he'd hidden earlier. "You do not have to say that. I  
should not have pushed you. I am sorry."

She arched her eyebrow at him. "I don't say things I don't mean.  
Sometimes I have problems saying the things I do." She moved  
herself, so that her shoulder was against the wall, and cricked her  
neck up at him. "I asked you if you knew how I felt about you. And  
you did." She smiled, her chest tight with emotion.

"I always will. You do not have to tell me."

"Yes. I do." She willed him to understand, that she couldn't  
say it because she'd known too many people who'd said it without  
meaning it, that she was afraid of cheapening the feelings she had  
for him by using words that were to often spoken casually and tossed  
aside. She wanted him to know she could only say the words when  
they rang true to the center of her soul, as they did now.

It seemed he understood. He tilted his head forward, to rest his  
head lightly to hers and place his mouth at her cheek. She turned her  
head and met his lips, touching them with her own before pressing into  
them, parting her mouth, tasting the sweet tang of his breath.

The kiss on the castle had been quick, an unfamiliar first  
movement into something new and wonderful. In her dreams, she'd  
locked her mouth on his in a passionate intensity electrifying her soul.  
This was neither. It was soft, tender, fumbling in a way which bespoke  
the dearth of kisses he'd given before, but also filled with silver  
promises of what could be, would be if only they dared. When they  
finally stopped the touch, it was less a breaking than a motion from  
comfort to comfort, as she lay her head against him once more.

There would be nothing else tonight, though she felt a growing  
hunger within her that would only be satisfied with further touches,  
further kisses, and embraces lasting not quiet moments, but long  
intense hours. Tonight wasn't for that. Tonight was for being with  
him, near him, listening to his heartbeat beneath her ear, watching  
the shapes in the almost-seen stars.

The time would come for everything else. Soon.

VVVVV


End file.
